


You Can Run but not Hide

by SasuNarufan13



Series: The Raven's Wings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brief description of dead body, Brief mention of a dead baby but only in nightmare form, Brief mention of miscarriage, Creature Fic, Dark Draco, Description of someone throwing up, Established slash, Form of manipulation, Harry's POV, Heavy last chapter, Implied Character Death, Lemon, M/M, Mpreg, Sequel to Ensnaring Enthralment, Short implicit birth scene, Some angst, Some sort of implied mind control, Suspense, Very conflicted and confused Harry, Violence, halloween fic, shitload of angst, some drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SasuNarufan13/pseuds/SasuNarufan13
Summary: Sequel to Ensnaring Enthralment. A new case uncovers secrets that turn Harry's whole world upside down. Secrets that prove that he doesn't know his boyfriend as well as he thought he did.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: All right, this is another contribution of mine for Halloween - and I hope I'm not too late with this *winces* It's going to have two parts, because otherwise I couldn't finish it on time *coughs*
> 
> It's the sequel to Ensnaring Enthralment and you might want to read that one first in order to completely understand this story. The next chapter will contain MPreg. 
> 
> Warnings: Harry's pov; violence; brief mention of a dead body; sort of cliffhanger; established slash.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope you'll like the first part!

_Part 1_

_Thank Merlin for Muffle charms_ , Harry thought and crept closer to the cave.

Currently he, Ron and a mousy brown haired bloke named Frank were tracking down a wizard accused of robbing and murdering eleven people. Keith Halcon – most likely an alias – had fled as soon as he caught sight of Frank's robes. The Tracking charm Ron had managed to cast on Halcon before he Apparated away, had led the three Aurors to a remote, small forest in Scotland near some cliffs. The charm took them to the middle of the forest and ended right in front of a half hidden cave. Heavy tree branches covered most of the entrance from view, but Harry could clearly see a gap near the left side.

His breath left him in the form of white fog and he grimaced at the sensation of the cold, sharp wind cutting across his cheeks. It was the end of January and winter had settled itself firmly in the country. He supposed he should be glad that it wasn't snowing today; chasing after criminals in the snow was not something he would recommend.

Chancing a glance to the left, he caught Ron's eyes and he held up two fingers. Ron nodded in understanding and hovered behind a tree; turning his head to give the same signal to Frank who was lingering on the other side of the cave. Harry would enter the cave first and Ron and Frank would follow two minutes later. That would give Harry enough time to locate Halcon without bringing himself into too much danger.

He moved soundlessly over the dead leaves, creeping closer to the cave while staying on high alert. There was only the sounds of birds tittering shrilly in the trees. He waited in tense silence next to the entrance of the cave, but his ears didn't pick up any sounds of Halcon. That didn't mean much of course. He could easily be standing quietly near the entrance or he could have gone deeper into the cave. Only one way to find out.

His arm brushed across one of the branches as he slipped inside, blinking against the sudden darkness. Daylight barely reached inside and he only dared to use a very weak Lumos, wanting to keep his presence a secret as much as he could. Halcon didn't know they had managed to follow him to this place, so there was a chance he wasn't on high alert now.

Senses on high alert, the dark haired wizard slowly and carefully made his way deeper into the cave. Occasionally the wind managed to sneak in, the howling sound echoed by the hollow space. There was only one direction to follow, which Harry was grateful for. If the cave had been made up out of various corridors, it would have been more difficult to pinpoint the exact location of the killer.

The deeper he went, the more puddles started to appear on the ground and the air began to smell salty, like the ocean. Why would Halcon stay here? Was this some kind of base for him?

Abruptly Harry halted when he spotted light dancing across the wall. The corridor bent to the right here and he stopped right around the corner, listening intently. There was the faint sound of water sloshing and he wondered whether the tide was strong enough to make the water rise high in the cave. It would certainly explain the puddles he had come across on his way here. It also made him worry and hope that he was out of here before high tide came.

He tensed up when footsteps came close to where he was hiding behind the corner and his hand tightened around his wand.

Halcon was muttering feverishly to himself. "Can't find out. No, they won't, I got away on time, right? Right, I did. I just need to stay low, here, for a few days. Just a few days and then I can leave. He said so himself."

Harry narrowed his eyes; apparently Halcon wasn't working alone. Kingsley wasn't going to be happy with this information.

Movement in the corner of his eye made him turn his head sharply and he nodded when Ron crouched down next to him, closely followed by Frank. Ron jerked his thumb at the wall behind them.

"He there?" he mouthed.

Harry inclined his head and peeked around the corner. Halcon was pacing back and forth at the edge where water met stone. The space was rather small and there weren't any big rocks where the Aurors could hide behind.

Fuck.

"We'll have to be quick," Harry whispered, turning back to his two partners. "There is nothing to hide behind, so we're going to have to use the element of surprise."

"Oh joy," Ron whispered sourly.

"Better get it done then," Frank sighed, sliding his wand out of his pocket. "Who's going first?"

"Might as well be me," Harry murmured. He was closest to Halcon, so it only made sense that he would go first. Taking one last deep breath, he looked around the corner to check Halcon's position and raised an Anti-Apparition ward.

As soon as the man had his back to Harry, he trained his wand at him and said loudly, "Last chance, Halcon! Surrender or - "

He ducked back behind the corner just in time. Something shaped like a purple green flame shot right past him and blasted apart against the wall right across from Harry. He cursed and quickly raised a shield to protect himself from the jagged pieces of rock flying in every direction.

"No surrender then," Frank said dryly and Ron huffed.

In unspoken agreement they left their hiding place, facing the killer directly. Ron raised a shield in lieu of not having any available rocks to act as cover and Frank yelled, "Expelliarmus!"

Halcon's wand twitched, but the man snarled and cast the Busting Drum curse, which Frank barely managed to avoid.

"Stupefy!" Harry snapped, but Halcon deflected it by ducking right on time behind a huge rock.

Ron growled, his eyes flashing with anger, and a snarled "Expulso!" made the huge rock explode in tiny pieces and caused Halcon to be slammed back in the wall with a scream.

"Nice," Frank muttered, before he flicked his wand and said in rapid succession, "Impedimenta! Incarcerous!"

The two spells hit Halcon right in his chest and the man froze, limbs locked together, before ropes suddenly appeared out of thin air, wrapping themselves tightly around his upper body.

"Thank Merlin," Ron sighed, lowering his wand a bit as he slowly approached Halcon, who stared back at him with murderous eyes, but couldn't move anymore. "Let's get him to the Ministry before the tide rises."

"And you don't want to miss your date with Hermione," Harry said teasingly, following his friend.

"It's been months since we last had time together without the children," Ron huffed, coming to a stop a few feet away from Halcon. "Excuse me for wanting to take advantage of that."

"I know the feeling all too well," Frank sagely said, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

It happened in a flash. Ron took a step forwards and suddenly a high pitched sound erupted, bouncing off against the walls of the cave. "What the - "

"RON!" Harry dove forwards, pushing Ron against the wall as he had recognised the sound as one belonging to a spell that would make the ground explode if it was triggered.

He realised too late that the spell had triggered a second one. Before he could raise a shield, a huge invisible fist slammed into his chest and he went flying backwards, straight into the unforgiving rock wall.

And then everything went black.

* * *

An impeccable white ceiling greeted him mockingly when he opened his eyes. He blinked, wondered why everything looked so blurry and then realised that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

And he was in Saint Mungos. Again. He hadn't been here in nearly three months, which had been some kind of record for him. His head pounded and his back ached even when lying still. Fuck, getting thrown against a rock wall really wasn't pleasant. At least he hadn't broken anything – he thought at least.

Draco wasn't going to be happy at all if he found out about this.

"Careful, Harry!" Hermione's voice reached him from somewhere on his left as he struggled to sit up. Warm hands touched his shoulders and gently pushed down so that he was forced to lie still unless he wanted to struggle.

It probably was a good idea to lie still; hot pain flared up and he couldn't supress a hiss, his breath leaving him all at once as he struggled to deal with the unexpected bolt of pain.

"Damn it!" he cursed, finally catching his breath again as the pain dulled a bit.

"That's what happens when you try to get up quickly after meeting a wall." Ron appeared on his right. He sounded light-heartened, but his eyes belied his tone, showcasing his concern for his best friend.

"Please tell me Halcon didn't manage to escape," Harry groaned, offering Hermione a quick, grateful smile when she handed him his glasses. He put them on and blinked as his sighed adjusted, the blurriness disappearing.

"No, he's in a holding cell now," Ron replied, lowering himself in a chair that had seen better days. "How are you feeling, mate?"

"Like I got smacked into a wall," the dark haired man answered deadpan. "How long am I supposed to stay here?"

Before either one of his friends could answer, the door to his room – a private one like he always got whenever he landed in the hospital – opened, revealing Draco, whose eyes were practically spitting fury, glinting metallic.

"Oh dear," Hermione muttered and her hands, which had been straightening out Harry's blanket – stilled as she straightened her back.

"Mind telling me, Potter, how the hell you managed to end up here again?" Draco spat, marching over to the bed. His eyes flashed and his face looked sharper than usually.

"Did you really have to tell Draco?" Harry muttered, throwing an annoyed look at Hermione, knowing better than to expect Ron to willingly talk to Draco.

"I didn't tell - "

"Well? I'm still waiting for my answer," Draco drawled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Silver grey eyes narrowed as they studied Harry, obviously looking for any visible injuries.

"Our mission went a bit awry at the end, but I'm fine," Harry insisted. He wanted to sit up, but he feared that one wrong movement would have him spasm with pain again. That was definitely not a good way to show his boyfriend that he was fine.

Draco walked around the bed, blocking Ron's view and ignoring his squawk of indignation as he came to a stop next to Harry. His hand landed on Harry's shoulder, the heat of it soothing and familiar. "Because clearly people who are fine end up in the hospital," the blond sneered and his fingers tightened a bit around Harry's shoulder, nails digging into his skin faintly.

"I just have a headache," Harry muttered petulantly, not willing to admit that his back was killing him whenever he moved even less than an inch.

"You know, private rooms have a limit of two guests at a time," Healer Jasen sighed as he entered the room, brandishing Harry's file – which was starting to become very thick.

"You heard the Healer, Weasley," Draco smiled snidely.

"How about you shut the f-"

"Gentlemen," Jasen interrupted Ron sharply, coming to a stop in front of the hospital bed. The Healer's ice blue eyes landed on Harry and he opened the file. "Well, you were extremely lucky, Mister Potter. Even though the blow was severe enough to cause broken bones, you got away with some big bruises. Not even a concussion. We did a full body scan as well, but that didn't reveal any internal bleedings either. We can give you some painkilling potions for the bruises and some salve to heal those."

"But I'm good to go?" Harry inquired relieved.

"Yes, you are. Maybe you can try to stay out of the hospital for more than three months now, hm?" Jasen suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"I just love visiting this place," Harry retorted sarcastically and then made the mistake of trying to sit up. As soon as he realised what he was doing, he froze, already anticipating the bolt of pain.

He felt nothing but a vague ache as if the bruise was already fading away.

He blinked, surprised at the sudden lack of pain – not that he was complaining. "Did you already give - "

"Let's get you home," Draco stated, slipping his arm around Harry's shoulders, helping him sit up. "You can rest there. I'll send an owl to Shacklebolt that you're resting for the rest of the week."

"The rest of the week?" Harry immediately protested, spluttering when his hospital gown – and really there had been no need to put him in that – was exchanged for his sweater. "I still have at least two days left and we need to question Halcon!"

"Too bad," Draco retorted nonchalantly. "I'm sure Weasley can handle everything on his own, right?"

"Mate, even though I really hate to agree with the bastard here, maybe it's best if you take the rest of the week off," Ron sighed, throwing a glare at the blond haired wizard. "You did get thrown violently against the wall of the cave."

Harry gaped at his best friend, shocked that the man was actually agreeing with Draco. Why did his boyfriend and best friend choose now of all times to agree for once? He was starting to think this was all one bloody conspiracy.

"Rest will do you well, Harry," Hermione agreed, patting his hand soothingly.

Draco smirked, holding up Harry's trousers. "Now let's get you into those and back at home, hm?"

His annoyance at being ordered around was enough to make him forget the sudden absence of pain.

* * *

"You're sure you don't want to stay?" Draco asked in a low voice, teeth nipping teasingly at Harry's right shoulder. His arms slipped around Harry's waist, hands interlocking on his stomach as the blond sat up, pressing his bare chest against his lover's back.

Harry groaned, letting his head fall back on the blond's shoulder, shivering when fingers caressed his lower stomach, fingers dipping into the waistband of his trousers. "It's not a matter of not wanting to," he replied, letting his own fingers trace meaningless patterns on Draco's arm. The pale skin practically glowed in the weak sunlight; outside some birds chittered busily as they made leaves rustle loudly. "It's that I don't have a choice. I have to escort Halcon to Azkaban. He received his punishment yesterday and today he'll be moved into his cell. I'm one of the Aurors who's going to escort him from his holding cell in the Ministry."

"Can't someone else take over?" Draco suggested; hot breath hitting the back of Harry's neck. "Send an owl, tell them you're sick. It can happen, you know." He trailed kisses from Harry's jaw to the spot where his neck met his shoulder and before the dark haired man could stop him, lips were sucking at his skin, a tongue sweeping over the bruising spot.

Harry hissed at the pressure, pulling away whilst slapping a hand over the throbbing mark. "I told you before: no marks above the collar!" he scolded, twisting around in Draco's hold.

The blond looked completely unrepentant. Silver grey eyes glittered brightly as hands starting to tug at his shirt. "It's not like they're going to fire you for it," he snorted. "If anything, it will finally give people the much needed clue that you're already taken by me."

Green eyes rolled in exasperation. "How many times do I have to tell you that nobody is interested in me like that?" Harry sighed, lowering his hand. He would need to cover the mark up with a Glamour charm before he went to his office. His colleagues liked gossip too much for his liking. "And even if there were – I'm only interested in one guy," he murmured, closing the small gap between them to kiss Draco.

Slender fingers left his shirt alone for now and instead slid into his hair, tugging softly at his locks. Draco broke their kiss slowly; his eyes trailing thoughtfully over Harry's face.

"What?" Harry inquired when the other man kept staring at him.

"I was thinking … We've been together for almost a year now."

"Yes," Harry said slowly, trying to figure out where the other wizard was going with this.

"Well, isn't it time that we cut out the whole switching between two places?" Draco suggested, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Harry blinked, trying to work out whether he had understood what Draco was implying. "Do you mean … live together?" he asked, his voice ending a bit higher than he would have liked at the end.

"Yes, us in one house," Draco replied and now he was definitely smirking as he trailed a hand up and down over Harry's arm. "I'm getting a bit tired of constantly going back and forth. Wouldn't it be nice if we start living together officially? We're already at each other's place for the majority of the week anyway." He sat up straighter; a glimmer of excitement shining through his face. "Think about it; we can sleep together in one bed every night, we can wake up together every morning, we don't have to constantly juggle with our stuff if we stay over at the other one's place … We're already together for a year – I'd say it's safe to say that we're permanent now."

Living together? He and Draco? Harry was stunned at the question, but he had to admit that Draco was right. They had been going back and forth between each other's homes for months now, more often than not staying there for the majority of the week before they returned to their own place. They had been together for a year, so it only made sense that they took their relationship a step further and started living together officially.

And he liked the idea of waking up next to Draco every morning and falling asleep next to him every night. Not having to be apart except for when they were at work or visiting friends. It made butterflies flutter madly in his stomach and he smiled, feeling himself flush.

"I think it's …"

BZZZTTT!

The alarm spell he had used so that he would leave on time made him jump nearly three feet in the air and he swore, whirling around to grab his wand off the nightstand. "Damn it! Sorry, Draco, I have to leave now or otherwise I'll be late. We'll talk about this tonight!" He clasped his Auror robes around his neck and bent down to give the stunned looking blond a kiss on his mouth. "I'll see you tonight, love you!"

He ran to the foyer that connected Malfoy Manor to his own place, from where he would travel further to the Ministry, cursing the alarm for its impeccable timing.

Talking with Draco about their future was definitely preferable over escorting a convicted criminal to Azkaban, but he had no choice but to deal with it.

It was his job and his job wouldn't wait merely because he was finally going to take the next step with Draco.

* * *

He was met with Ron's ashen face when he finally stumbled into his office, only a minute too late.

"Ron, what's wrong?" he asked alarmed, halting in the doorway. "Is it Hermione?"

"Harry, we've got a problem," Ron said, throwing an open file on Harry's desk.

Harry approached his desk warily, eyeing his best friend. "A new case? But don't we need to escort Halcon to …" he trailed off, breath halting as his gaze fell on the first page of the file. The picture containing a very familiar body, dismembered, blood dripping over every visible surface, glared back at him.

"Keith Halcon was murdered."

A beat of silence.

"And they think the killer is someone in this department."

_Fuck._


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Remember how I said that the real horror would start in the second chapter? *coughs* Yes, well, turns out that this story will be a bit longer than two chapters. I suck at keeping to limits, let this be known.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments!
> 
> Warnings: mature content; some drama; those are the most important warnings for now
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope you'll like it!

_Part 2_

He sank down in his chair, gaze still fixated on the bloody image. "Why do they suspect someone in our department?" he inquired, letting out his breath slowly.

This was a mess; a gigantic mess. If the murderer really was an Auror … If the press caught word of this … They already had to deal with a scandal two years ago when an Auror – a guy named Philips but with whom Harry had never worked together – had been caught naked with the wife of an important Wizengamot member. The newspapers had salivated over that particular fact for months and it had taken a very long time before the department gained back the respect they had lost thanks to that whole affair.

Getting caught with the wife of someone else – even if that someone else was an important member in the Wizarding society – would be nothing compared to the shit storm that would brew if word got out that an Auror had killed someone in cold blood.

Whoever it was couldn't even call it self-defence, because Halcon had had his wand snapped the moment he had entered the Ministry.

"There were no signs of breaking and entering in the corridor of the holding cells," Ron answered quietly, bracing his elbows on his desk. "They're still investigating, but they already know that one of our keys was used to enter the cell."

Fuck. Harry closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

Every Auror had their own key to open the holding cells. It was a simple ring with a black obsidian cut into a square form. The stone was infused with a bit of magic of the owner and when the Auror pressed the stone against a certain spot in the wall, the wards would recognise the magic and allow the Auror entrance.

"If a key was used, don't they already know who the murderer is?" Harry questioned, tapping an erratic beat with his fingers on the desk.

Ron grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's the thing. While the wards did show evidence of one of our keys having been used, whoever did it was smart enough to erase his or her magical print."

"So we have no clue whatsoever," Harry said blankly.

"Nope, but considering we're the ones who were assigned to take him to Azkaban …" Ron trailed off uncomfortably, but he didn't need to finish his sentence.

He and Harry were now both the prime suspects. And Frank, Harry thought with a grimace. The three of them had had Halcon's case assigned to them and with the wizard being dead now, they were the first ones the higher ups would suspect.

Harry wasn't really worried; he knew he hadn't done it and he even had an alibi thanks to having spent the night with Draco, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be any trouble for him. Some of the higher ranked Aurors weren't happy at all that Harry had joined the ranks and would love nothing more than to see him disappear out of the force. Not to mention that Draco still was on shaky grounds with the Ministry; there would be people who would consider his alibi not trustworthy simply because of who Draco was.

Who had killed Halcon? And for what reason? As far as the dark haired wizard could recall there were no immediate ties between Halcon and any of the Aurors. And why would the murderer have waited until today to kill Halcon?

Things weren't adding up and Harry gritted his teeth in frustration.

A heavy knock on the door made him look up. Kingsley regarded them with hooded eyes; the older man looking tired as his hand rested on his hip.

"Auror Potter, Auror Weasley," he greeted them in his low voice. "I'm sure you know why I'm here now. We have to interrogate you regarding the death of Keith Halcon. Please give your wands to me and follow me to the interrogation rooms."

_Maybe I should have taken up Draco on his offer and stayed in bed_ , Harry mused, handing over his wand to his boss.

This definitely wasn't how he had wanted to start his day.

* * *

"So you weren't anywhere near the holding cells between seven and nine a.m.," Elisa Dayburn stated, looking down at her notes with a frown. Her dark red lipstick stood out starkly against her pale skin and her bright pink painted nails shone in the light as she tapped them softly against the table.

Harry shook his head. "No, I wasn't. I was with Draco until eight thirty and then I went home to get myself ready. I arrived at my office a bit after nine."

"There's still at least half an hour that's unaccounted for," she pointed out, her voice professional but not taunting.

He knew he had lucked out with getting her as his interrogator. She had ten years on him, but she treated him just like any other colleague and didn't act biased. "There is a portrait of one of Hogwarts' Headmasters in my house. He was present when I arrived and left my house," he informed her and shrugged. "You can ask him."

Although he might not be in his portrait any longer; Snape had the tendency to disappear for a long time. He had hung the older man's portrait up in his home around four years ago. Harry still didn't really know why he had done that; it wasn't like he and Snape had got along well when the older wizard had still been alive. But it worked somehow; Snape hadn't once complained about his new residence – probably because he was more absent than not – and had only called him a foolish idiot once for wanting to bring his portrait in Harry's home. They could co-exist in peace and it was a damn shame it had taken Snape to be dead to finally have some civil conversations with the man.

McGonagall had been quite amused when she had heard where Snape's other portrait resided.

"I suppose," Dayburn said, a hint of hesitation lingering in her voice as she bit on her lower lip.

"If need be, I agree to take Veritaserum," he added calmly. "I don't have anything to hide. I wasn't the one who killed Halcon."

Her dark brown eyes sharpened and she appraised him quietly. "Do you know why someone would want him dead? Anyone you know had a grudge?" she inquired, placing the quill down.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he sighed, leaning back into his chair. "As far as I know, nobody on the force had ties to Halcon."

She nodded slowly. "Yes, nothing in his file indicated that he was familiar with any of the Aurors here," she murmured and released a soft sigh. "Honestly, as far as I'm concerned you're not a suspect anymore. I've developed a skill for spotting a lie and you're clean, Potter. But considering the investigation is still ongoing, I'm afraid you'll be put on non-active until we have officially ruled you out."

"That's what I was afraid of," Harry groaned in dismay.

She smiled wryly. "I'll give my report to Kingsley. I'd suggest you treat this time off as a well-earned vacation."

He begrudgingly nodded and stood up, having resigned himself to at least a week of being off duty.

* * *

Grey eyes blinked in surprise when the Floo call was accepted. "You're back early," Draco said surprised and suspicion crossed his face. "Wait, did something happen?"

Harry pursed his lips and tugged at a lock of his hair. "Got put on non-active," he muttered with a grimace. "They found Halcon murdered in his holding cell. Ron, Frank and I are off-duty as long as they haven't found the killer."

"They think you did it?" Draco sounded as if he couldn't decide between being amused or outraged.

Harry shrugged and answered wearily, "It's not that surprising. I handled his case, so …"

The blond snorted derisively. "Oh please, you're much too noble to attack an unarmed person."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing," Harry retorted dryly.

The other one offered a razor sharp smile. "You want to come over?" Draco suggested.

"You don't mind?"

"Why would I?" the blond hummed and a glint appeared in his eyes. "We might as well continue our conversation of this morning, right?"

Harry smiled and some of the tension in his body bled away at the reminder of the offer. "Right, I'm coming through then."

Draco nodded and disappeared out of the Floo, making way for the dark haired wizard. Patting his pocket to make certain that he had his wand with him – a habit after years of carrying it with him constantly – he stood up and called out, "Malfoy Manor!" as he stepped into the fire.

The green flames licked at his legs and he saw several kitchens and living rooms and even something that looked like a garage passing by in a flash before he recognised the foyer of Malfoy Manor and hastily stumbled out of it.

Nearly tripping – he would never get the hang of it – he was saved from meeting the tiled floor head on by a pair of strong arms.

"One day you'll master the art of Flooing perfectly," Draco commented dryly, steadying the dark haired wizard until he could stand without falling.

"Shut up, I'm not that bad," Harry groused, but involuntarily a smile quirked his mouth as he caught sight of the various potion stains decorating Draco's robes. There was a mustard yellow stain near his hip; a midnight blue one near his side and several ruby red splatters across his chest. "Had a bit of an accident?"

Grey eyes glanced down and then rolled as the blond huffed in dismay. "A miscalculation, nothing more."

"Not so perfect after all, huh?" Harry teased and pressed a kiss against pale rose lips before the other wizard could retort. "If you're still busy, I can wait. I'm sure I can find something in the manor to pass the time."

"And have you get lost?" Draco snorted and shook his head, serenely ignoring Harry's offended look. "No, I'm not busy. The potion I'm working on needs to rest for a couple of hours, so I have time. Why don't we go to my room and have the house elves bring us something?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry answered, linking their hands together. "Where's your mother?"

"She's out, meeting with Blaise's mother," Draco replied and they left the foyer, passing a house elf who was busy cleaning a small statue of a Malfoy ancestor. "She'll be gone for a couple of hours."

"How's Blaise doing?" Harry questioned, ignoring the judging gazes of some of the portraits as they walked past them. Draco's ancestors didn't seem particularly fond of him, but he had got quite good at ignoring their dark muttering. It wasn't like they could do much after all, being nothing but animated paintings.

"He's Blaise," Draco replied simply and they ascended the large staircase that would direct them to Draco's wing. "Still flitting from one woman to the next. I believe he's in Greece this week."

"Still no plans of settling down then," Harry chuckled and he had to admit that sometimes he was a bit jealous of Blaise. It must be nice just to disappear and stay in other countries without anyone making a fuss about it.

"I don't think he even knows what settling down means," the blond retorted dryly and then addressed a house elf that was putting new flowers into a vase. "Bring us some tea."

"Yes, Master Draco," the house elf squeaked and bowed before disappearing with a quiet 'pop'.

The curtains in Draco's bedroom were half drawn, allowing a glimpse of the dark grey sky. The clouds looked heavy with rain, looming low. Draco tugged him to the bed and Harry dropped down on it, kicking off his shoes. He shuffled backwards until he was sitting propped up against various pillows – Draco insisted that he didn't have too many pillows – and the blond followed him, their legs pressed together as the older man made himself comfortable.

"So did you give my question any thought?" Draco inquired lightly, but a hint of uncertainty shone through in his eyes.

"Yeah, I did," Harry smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a bit nervous, and continued, "I think it's a great idea. I'd love to start living together."

"Yes?" Draco's face lit up with excitement and his eyes glittered brightly. He looked absolutely beautiful and Harry's breath hitched when those eyes fixated themselves on him. "You mean it? You really want to live together?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Harry grinned and then a noise of surprise escaped him when Draco smashed their mouths together, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. His own hands slipped around Draco's neck, his thumb caressing a spot underneath Draco's ear. "Someone is happy," he murmured, a bit breathless, when their lips separated again.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Draco retorted and looked as satisfied as a cat who just caught the canary. One of his hands slipped down, brushing over Harry's shirt, before he rucked it up and stuck his hand underneath it, scratching teasingly over his stomach. "You just agreed to live with me permanently." Grey glinted as they studied Harry's face carefully.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Harry snorted and wiggled in anticipation when slender fingers started tugging at his zipper. He liked where this was going.

"You never know," Draco murmured and left the zipper alone in favour of pulling off Harry's shirt. His glasses were taken off and put on the nightstand, causing the dark haired wizard to blink a few times until he could focus on Draco. His lover nosed his throat, breath caressing his skin and raising goose bumps, as he continued, "I was thinking … I have my own house. It's not really a manor, but it's still large. Enough space to have our own rooms to retreat to if we want to be alone. Rooms where Teddy and other children can sleep in. A big garden; it's secluded and warded, so we wouldn't be bothered by anyone …" he trailed off and looked meaningfully at Harry, shifting until he was pushing open Harry's legs and settling himself between them, rocking their hips together.

Ignoring the mention of other children for now – there was only so much information Harry's brain could compute while his body was warming up, reacting to his boyfriend's ministrations – he smiled and tapped his wand on Draco's shoulder, removing the potion stained robes with a non-verbal spell. "You're quite prepared, hm?" he said, busying himself with unbuttoning Draco's dark blue shirt.

The blond shrugged, a bit bashful, before he dipped down and trailed kisses over Harry's chest, starting from his collarbone and making his way down, pausing to graze his teeth carefully over Harry's nipple. He smirked as Harry hissed and pressed down harshly with his hips as Harry bucked his own. "I like to be prepared," he replied lightly and then sat up, unzipping Harry's trousers fully so that he could pull them off and drop them next to the bed.

Harry helped unbuckling Draco's belt and unbuttoning his trousers when a sudden thought made him halt. "Wait, didn't you tell a house elf to bring us tea?"

"They know better than to disturb us now," Draco hummed, shimmying out of his trousers and socks. "The tea will be here once we're done."

Privately Harry thought it would have made more sense to order tea after they were done, instead of making the house elf wait now, but what did he know?

They drew the sheets back and Harry released a soft sigh when bare skin met his.

"So that's a yes to moving in my place then?" Draco murmured, tonguing Harry's nipple briefly before making his way down. He breathed gently over Harry's stomach and the dark haired man squirmed at the ticklish feeling.

"Yeah, that's a yes," Harry smiled, his own fingers tracing meaningless shapes over Draco's shoulders.

Grey eyes flashed, looking more like melted silver, as Draco brought his hands down on Harry's stomach, fingers stroking it almost reverently before the blond bent down and sucked a bruise right above Harry's right hip. "Good," Draco smiled, almost predatorily.

They didn't talk much after that.

They got rid of their underwear at the same time, impatient to feel every bit of skin and Draco let out a soft sound when their cocks brushed against each other, already leaking a bit. Locating the jar of lubrication took some time as Harry kept distracting the blond by kissing his neck, sucking dark red bruises in it as his hand dipped down to close around Draco's cock, squeezing it gently as he moved his hand up and down.

Draco hissed in his ear, bit his earlobe gently in retaliation, but he finally unearthed the jar from beneath a stack of parchment, dumping it next to them on the bed. He unscrewed the lid and dipped three fingers inside; they came up again glistening with the shiny substance.

"You ready?" Draco asked, his voice rough as Harry flicked a thumb over his leaking tip teasingly.

Harry hummed and spread his legs, welcoming the blond between them. Having done it the night before, there was barely any discomfort when Draco slipped his finger inside; his other hand coming up to jack off Harry slowly as their mouths found each other again. Harry released Draco's cock in favour of locking his arms around strong shoulders so that he could press closer to the other wizard. One finger soon became two and Harry grunted at the slight sting as Draco started spreading his fingers, stretching his entrance and forcing his inner muscles to part.

A tongue swept across his lips and Harry opened his mouth automatically, accepting the intrusion happily. His breath hitched and the kiss became more insistent when a third finger was slipped inside; fingertips sliding against his walls before they prodded against his prostate and he uttered a low moan as arousal sparked through him. He threw a leg around Draco's hips and groaned when the blond kept stroking his prostate, shivers dancing across his spine.

Then those fingers were abruptly pulled out of him and he couldn't prevent a noise from loss escaping him, flushing warmly when he caught Draco's smirk of satisfaction. As revenge, he bit down in Draco's neck, harder than he had done before, nearly breaking the skin. Draco jolted in his embrace, but he didn't pull back, merely breathing harder as he bared more of his neck, giving Harry space.

Harry released the bruising skin, licking the spot as an apology while Draco huffed amused. They shifted around, changing positions until Draco was kneeling on the mattress, Harry in his lap. Harry braced his knees on the bed, canting his hips until he felt the tip of Draco's cock bump against his stretched entrance and then he sank down, moaning lowly at the feeling of being filled. He was stretched even more, but he welcomed the faint burn as his muscles were forced to part around the intrusion, allowing his lover to sink completely inside of him.

His breath escaped him in a 'whoosh' when he stilled, as always slightly overwhelmed at the feeling of being full, of Draco surrounding him completely. He linked his arms around Draco's neck, fingers running over his spine, and wrapped his legs around Draco's waist, while hands slipped down to his arse and gripped his cheeks firmly.

He felt the tension coiled in the blond's body and he turned his head, pressing a kiss against a slightly clammy cheek. "You can move," he muttered, wiggling his hips a bit.

A sharp smile was flashed his way and then his arse was pulled up until only Draco's tip remained inside before he was slammed down and he let out a shout when his prostate was struck full on. They didn't set a particular rhythm; at first the thrusts were deep and hard, forcing him to cling onto Draco because it felt like he would fly off any second. Then the thrusts turned shallow and short and it made him keen in frustration, while Draco pressed hot kisses in his neck, muttering things that were too low for Harry's hearing to pick up.

Right when Harry had almost got used to the shallow thrusts, they turned deep and slow, Draco's cock dragging slowly over his prostate and his inner walls as he pulled back before sliding inside again. Harry couldn't do anything but whimper and moan, nails digging into pale skin whenever a particular hard thrust still managed to catch him off guard; his own cock dragging against Draco's stomach with every thrust upwards.

Draco was driving him _insane_. And the fucker looked smug about it too.

Finally he couldn't take it anymore and Harry smashed their lips together – which by now were bruised, swollen and red as they bit and licked at each other – as the pleasure became too much and he erupted, his come splattering across Draco's stomach as he rode out his high; his nerves singing and his blood rushing loudly in his ears as he panted and tried to get his bearings back after nearly blacking out.

Draco's thrusts had turned irregular, deeper and harsher, when Harry came to again and even though the dark haired man was tired, he grinned and clenched his muscles around Draco's cock, delighting in the harsh curse he managed to extract out of the blond.

"Fuck, Harry!" Draco groaned and then teeth were sinking in his neck, breaking the skin, stinging pain pricking through his haze and a flood of warmth erupted inside of him, coating his inner walls.

There was a flash of something black behind Draco's back.

But when Harry looked again, he saw nothing. Maybe he should get his eyesight checked again, he mused as Draco laid them down on the bed.

* * *

Two days later Harry was packing his stuff so that he could move in with Draco; his godson Teddy helping by dumping books into the designated boxes while chattering about what he had learnt in class the past week. Draco was both criticizing his wardrobe and shrinking the boxes that were already filled to the brim with kitchen supplies.

A chime alerted Harry to the fact that someone was trying to Floo call him and he abandoned the box with his Quidditch gear in favour of opening the Floo. Kingsley's grave face greeted him.

"Kingsley, what's wrong?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. Unease started to stir in him at the unsettled look in Kingsley's eyes.

"Harry, we," Kingsley paused, seemingly searching for the right words and it made Harry tense up. Behind him Teddy was still blabbing, oblivious to the tension in the room, but Draco had stilled and Harry knew he was listening too. "We discovered Halcon's murderer."

Harry breathed out slowly. "That's good, right?" he said slowly, narrowing his eyes when Kingsley grimaced. "Who did it?"

"It was …" Kingsley sighed and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. For the first time he really looked his age and Harry knew instantly that he wouldn't like whatever answer he would get.

"Frank. It was … Frank killed Halcon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN2: Does this count as a cliffhanger? *muses*
> 
> Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
> 
> See you all - hopefully - in the next chapter!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Soooo, this one was supposed to be the end actually, but naturally my brain screwed me over again *pauses* So you know, I'm just not going to even speculate anymore how many chapters this will be and will just write it and that's that.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments!
> 
> Warnings: some angst; MPreg; description of someone throwing up
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope you'll like it!

_Part 3_

"So he wanted to keep Halcon quiet?" Harry asked incredulously, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

As soon as Kingsley had dropped the bomb of Frank's arrest, Harry had Floo'd to the Ministry, leaving Draco in charge of keeping an eye on Teddy and finishing packing up. He could hardly believe that Frank, the friendly guy who always had a smile on his face and with whom he had solved quite a few cases before, had killed Halcon just to make sure that the man couldn't go and run his mouth about Frank's financial problems.

Hell, he hadn't even known Frank was in financial trouble; nobody had known.

"This can't be true." Ron shook his head, looking pale in the grey daylight. He had arrived a couple of seconds after Harry. "There is no way Frank is the killer. That has to be a mistake!"

"I wish it was," Kingsley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But I was there when they interrogated him with Veritaserum. Frank admitted to killing Halcon, because he had borrowed money from some unsavoury people and he feared that Halcon would blab about it in a last attempt to reduce his sentence."

"But why wait until Halcon was to be escorted to Azkaban?" Harry frowned, raking a hand through his hair. "That doesn't make any sense. Wouldn't it have been easier to kill him before his trial? I mean, Halcon could have easily said what he knew about Frank during the trial, right?"

"Halcon's lawyer had planned on setting up a new trial and he wanted to discuss that with his client," Kingsley explained, folding his hands together on top of some documents. "Apparently he had got his hands on some interesting facts that would prove that a particular Auror involved in his case wasn't impartial. But he needed Halcon to confirm these facts."

"And Frank thought it was about him and wanted to shut Halcon up before he could talk." Harry closed his eyes, weariness cloaking him. "Fuck."

"Is there any actual proof that Frank accepted money from bad people?" Ron asked sharply.

"We found written agreements in his house," Kingsley replied quietly. "One of our undercover men informed us that the people mentioned in the agreements confirmed that they had lent Frank money. Halcon apparently knew about it from these people."

"What's going to happen now?" Harry asked, a bit subdued. "Does the press know about it?"

"No, fortunately they didn't hear anything about this," Kingsley sighed. "Frank has been arrested and brought to Azkaban. He'll remain there until his trial. I've been assured that the trial will be a closed one, so that the press don't get their hands on this news."

"I can't believe we missed this," Ron muttered, shaking his head. "We went through his entire history to make sure no connections were made with any Auror. How could we have missed this?"

"It wouldn't show up if Halcon had merely heard about the debt," Harry pointed out, rubbing a hand over his forehead. This was a big mess. Sure they had caught Halcon's killer and yes, he had known from the beginning that it had to be one of the Aurors. But for the killer to be Frank? He had a difficult time wrapping his mind around that. It just didn't fit with what he knew about Frank.

_Then again_ , a dark voice piped up in the back of his mind, _people have surprised you before_.

Yes, they had, but Harry had hoped that he had got better at judging people. Apparently not.

"You two go home for the day," Kingsley stated, grimacing when he looked at the report in front of him. "There's nothing you can do here. Take the rest of the week off; I'll see you next week."

For once Harry didn't think of protesting; he felt too off balance and he simply nodded. He and Ron left Kingsley's office and slowly made their way back to the Atrium.

"You want to come with me? My mum has the kids until this evening," Ron offered, absentmindedly waving goodbye to Melina, Kingsley's secretary, before they stepped into the elevator.

Harry hesitated briefly, but shook his head with a sigh. "No, thanks. I need to finish packing."

"Ah, right, you're moving in with Malfoy," Ron grimaced, looking like he had tasted something sour.

"Yes, I am," Harry retorted, not reacting to Ron's look. He had long since given up on making his best friend get along with his boyfriend. "I also promised Teddy I would take him out for ice cream afterwards."

The cool woman's voice announced, "The Atrium", and they exited the elevator, leaving behind two flustered witches and a bunch of flying memos.

"Well, can't ignore a promise you made to Teddy," Ron chuckled and clapped his shoulder. "All right, mate, I'll speak to you later then, okay? Don't forget to give me the new Floo address!"

"I won't," Harry reassured him and then they parted ways, each disappearing into a fireplace.

* * *

"So what do you think of the place?" Draco asked, as they entered the kitchen again. He came to a halt behind Harry and slipped his arms casually around his waist, linking his hands together over his stomach.

"It's amazing," Harry smiled, giving Draco's arm a gentle squeeze. "You didn't have to put everything away on your own, though. I could have done that myself."

He felt Draco shrug. "It wasn't that much. I figured I'd do it, because I didn't think you'd be in the mood for it."

Harry tensed up a bit at the reminder of the meeting in Kingsley's office, but nodded. "True," he muttered and in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, he asked, "That one room on the second floor at the end of the corridor, why didn't you show me that one?"

"That's my private room," Draco replied casually. "You have one on the first floor, remember?"

"So does that mean I'm not allowed to see your private room?" Harry questioned, not sure whether he felt amused or wary.

"Sure, if I'm inside and call you in." A hand slipped underneath his shirt, brushing circles around his bellybutton. "I won't enter your room either unless you call me inside. Promise me you won't enter my room unless I'm there."

"Seriously?" Harry sighed and then stilled when hot breath hit his neck.

"Promise me, Harry," Draco murmured, his voice almost a purr as his lips brushed across a sensitive spot in Harry's neck.

"Fine, I promise," Harry said and he swore he didn't pout. He could understand Draco's need for privacy, though. It was nice to be able to have a place to retreat to when he needed to be on his own or was too overwhelmed. They were both quite stubborn, so having their own private room to retreat to in case of any fighting would help to calm them down as well.

"Uncle Harry! You promised ice cream!" Teddy yelled from upstairs and Harry chuckled.

"Well, I suppose breaking in the bedroom will have to wait until we have had ice cream," Draco said dryly and took a step back right when Teddy came barrelling into the kitchen.

"I'll make it worth your while," Harry whispered in Draco's ear and winked when he felt the blond man shiver in response.

For now, though, he had a promise to fulfil to his godson.

* * *

It started around the end of February.

"I'm meeting Blaise," Draco murmured; the soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting the window gently serving as soothing background noise.

Harry barely opened his eyes, still caught in the embrace of sleep. "Late is it?" he muttered, scarcely able to form a complete sentence.

Warm breath washed over him as Draco huffed in amusement. "Seven o'clock."

"Why so early?" Harry whined, giving up on opening his eyes. His eyelids were too heavy, the bed too warm and comfy for him to even contemplate moving.

"Blaise just came back from a trip and he wants to meet up before he crashes," Draco answered lightly and pressed a kiss on Harry's slack lips. "I'll see you this afternoon, okay?"

Harry hummed and lazily turned around, burrowing himself deeper into the sheets. He heard Draco chuckle amused, footsteps muffled by the carpet and the door that opened and closed again.

Then it was silent again. He still had around an hour before he really had to get up and he was planning on dozing off for a little bit longer. Last night he had had to go to sleep quite late as he was still finishing up a report and he was going to take advantage of the fact that he now had a direct connection to the office to sleep in for a little longer.

He let out a sigh of contentment and pressed his cheek deeper into the fluffy pillow; sleep dragging him back under.

Suddenly his stomach churned, seemed to turn upside down and a wave of nausea swept over him and he stumbled out of the bed, rushing into the bathroom, but only managed to reach the sink before he threw up; the bile vile and sour, irritating the sensitive tissue of his throat. His hands clenched around the edge of the sink and he barely managed to take a breath before a new wave of nausea had him hurling again, splattering the pristine white sink.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice rough, and he winced as a thousand tiny needles seemed to pierce the tissue in his throat. Taking a few shallow breaths, grimacing at the vile taste that coated his mouth, he filled a cup with cold water from the tap and took careful sips; the cold liquid soothing the burning in his throat somewhat.

Once he was certain he wouldn't start throwing up again, he put the cup down and turned the tap again; the water swirled around in the sink, taking the bile with it into the drain with gurgling sounds. The wooziness in his head was slowly clearing up and he grabbed his toothbrush, squinting a bit when he put the toothpaste on it.

As soon as the sour taste in his mouth was replaced by the minty freshness of the toothpaste, he stumbled back into the bedroom and dropped down on the bed, leaning forwards with his head supported by his hands. That would teach him to eat that spicy chicken so late at night. He groaned and snatched his glasses off the nightstand, relieved when the room came completely into focus again. It was a wonder he hadn't walked straight into a wall or tripped when he rushed towards the bathroom.

He sighed and straightened up, staring mournfully at his pillow. Well, he might as well get up now and start to get ready for work. He didn't think he would be able to doze off for a little while anymore.

His stomach chose that moment to protest loudly. Breakfast it was then.

* * *

The nausea kept returning. After the first time, the sick feeling overwhelmed him again when he was at work the next day. He had had to go in an hour earlier to finish a report regarding a breaking and entering, when his stomach flip flopped and he barely had time to grab the garbage can before his breakfast resurfaced.

That had definitely not been a good start of the day, but he had waved it off at the incredibly sweet pancakes the house elf had given him – clearly too sweet food didn't agree with his stomach, which was a darn shame, because those pancakes had been heaven.

When he threw up again the next afternoon, he couldn't find any immediate reason for it, but he was starting to get annoyed. Had someone brought a bug inside the Ministry? If so, Ron was one lucky bastard, because he didn't appear to be affected by the bug.

One week later, the nausea hadn't abated at all. The sick feeling lingered throughout the entire day, lasting deep into the evening, and it was becoming more difficult to hide his state from Draco.

So far the blond hadn't found him throwing up what felt like all his intestines, but that would only be a matter of time. Harry knew that he should see a Healer about this, realised that it wasn't normal to be throwing up so regularly, but he didn't have fond memories of the hospital wing of Hogwarts and he certainly wasn't looking forward to seeing the inside of Saint Mungos again. He hadn't had to go back there in nearly two months and he didn't want to break his streak.

Something had to be done, though, and soon, because even the Anti-Nausea potions didn't affect him. If anything, the nausea seemed to worsen whenever he ingested the vile tasting liquid.

Briefly he had entertained the idea to ask Snape for advice. Draco had hung up his portrait in their library – Hermione had immediately fallen in love with the room the moment she had laid eyes on it – but the Potions Master usually spent his time at Hogwarts and Harry feared that the older man would let it slip to Draco what was going on with him.

Draco had a tendency to become rather protective and Harry really wasn't in the mood to deal with his fussing.

* * *

It was on a rainy Saturday, in the middle of March, three weeks after he first started throwing up that Harry finally received an answer as to which mysterious illness was plaguing him.

He had taken the day off to visit Andromeda and his godson as it had been a while since he last saw the older woman. Draco had to attend some kind of potions meeting in Glasgow and would be gone until late in the evening.

"How's work going?" Andromeda inquired, placing a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of Harry.

Teddy murmured an absentminded thank you when his grandmother gave him a cup of hot chocolate; he was bent over the jigsaw puzzle of an Hungarian Horntail that Harry had given him when he arrived. The dragon was supposed to step around and fly a few inches above the puzzle once it was finished.

Harry shrugged, taking a sip from his tea. The herbs in it made his throat tingle. "Same old, same old," he murmured. "Ron and I just closed a case of arson yesterday."

"The farm that went up in flames a week ago?" she asked and furrowed her eyebrows as she lowered herself into her own seat.

"That one," he confirmed, putting the cup back down with a soft 'tick'. "Turns out it was a jealous ex-girlfriend." He grimaced. The woman hadn't seemed to realise that she had done anything wrong; according to her, her ex-boyfriend had deserved it for not wanting to take her back.

Andromeda clucked her tongue. "Well, at least you found her. How is my nephew doing, anyway?" Dark eyes – the trademark of the Black family, so alike her crazy sister Bellatrix's, yet so different at the same time – studied him intently.

"He's fine," Harry replied. "He's at a meeting now; something to do with comparing recipes."

"And how is living with him?" she questioned with an amused smile.

"I can't complain," he chuckled. "It's not that different from staying over at his place or mine after all."

"Maybe not, but back then you each had your own house to go back to if you had an argument," she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"We each have our own room to retreat to if we need to," he retorted lightly.

"Uncle Draco let me choose my own room," Teddy crowed, looking up from his puzzle with a satisfied grin. "He said I could choose one and the others will be for other children. Are you and Uncle Draco going to have children, Uncle Harry?"

Andromeda's eyebrow climbed even higher – a feat Harry hadn't thought was possible. "Oh? Making room for children? You didn't tell me you were thinking of having children, Harry."

"That's because Draco and I haven't discussed it," Harry sighed and paused before adding while wrinkling his nose, "yet, I suppose. He hasn't said anything about - "

By some miracle he managed to reach the sink before his lunch burned its way through his throat, splattering into the metal basin. The sour, sharp stench hit him and he retched again, a couple of tears leaking out of his eyes as the burning sensation seemed to amplify and he felt like he wouldn't be able to breathe again; his stomach cramping as it was forced to keep expelling its content, even if nothing much remained in it.

Vaguely he was aware of Teddy's alarmed voice asking what was wrong and cool hands touching the back of his neck – which felt like it was on _fire_ – before a hand settled on his back and rested there, offering support.

Finally, finally, his stomach was empty and he lurched back with a loud gasp, coughing and choking a bit before he managed to calm down enough to take a measured inhale of fresh air.

"Here." A glass with cool water entered his vision and he accepted it with a trembling hand, taking careful sips of it, while the older woman rinsed out the sink and used a spell to get rid of the foul air.

His throat stopped feeling like there were needles stuck through it and he placed the glass on the counter, leaning back against it, while trying to ignore the light tremors going through his body as he cast a Fresh Breath charm. The sharp taste of mint assaulting his tongue and gums made him wince, but the too sharp taste of the mint was preferred to the taste of sourness.

A small hand on his wrist made him blink and look down, right into worried dark green eyes.

"Are you okay, Uncle Harry?" Teddy asked with a small voice. His hair was rapidly changing colours, going from chocolate brown, to light blond, to forest green, sky blue, midnight purple, black blue, before becoming a mixture between dark brown and blond.

"Yeah," Harry rasped and rubbed his throat with grimace. "Sorry; guess I ate something wrong."

"Teddy, you know the potion I give to you when you have a stomach ache – can you go get it?" Andromeda asked; her eyes studying Harry with such scrutiny that it made the dark haired man squirm uncomfortably.

Teddy nodded jerkily before dashing out of the kitchen, his footsteps thundering on the stairs.

"Harry, have you had this happen before?" she asked.

He hesitated, wondering whether it would be worth the fussing he would have to endure, but her pointed look made him give in with a groan. Crossing his arms, he bit his lip and staring at the ground, he replied, "Yeah, since three weeks or so. I thought it had to do with the food I ate, but …"

"Have you gone to the Healer yet?"

His silence spoke volumes and she released a put out sigh. "Harry," she spoke disapprovingly.

"I know, okay!" he bit out and pressed his lips together, already regretting his outburst. "Sorry, it's just … You know I don't like Healers."

"Yes, I know, but throwing up for three weeks _isn't_ normal," she stressed and the frown creasing her forehead deepened.

"Trust me, I know," he said darkly. He had hoped he was finally done with puking when he had woken up this morning with only the faint echoes of nausea annoying him, but clearly he had celebrated too early.

When he raised his head again, he saw Andromeda biting thoughtfully on her lip. "What?" he asked and in the back of his mind he wondered what was taking Teddy so long.

"Would you mind if I performed a diagnostic charm to find out what's wrong with you?" she suggested, taking a few steps back from the sink.

He shrugged half-heartedly, letting his arms dangle next to his sides. "I suppose," he said wearily.

She nodded, gave him a reassuring smile which he returned weakly, and then took her wand, pointing it at his chest, murmuring, "Morbum Aperio."

A soft blue glow sank into his skin and he became aware of the soft buzzing noise that currently was filling the kitchen. Warmth erupted from within him, startling him, but it was as quickly gone as it had appeared and when he blinked next, Andromeda was reading a paper that had appeared out of thin air and the blue glow was gone.

"And? What does it say?" Harry asked, growing worried when the older woman kept quiet.

Teddy was coming down the stairs again right when Andromeda answered shocked, "Harry, _you're pregnant_."

* * *

As it turned out, Andromeda hadn't been taking the piss with him. At Andromeda's insistence, Healer Jasen had taken the time to make a house call – making Harry wonder whether the older witch had somehow threatened the Healer because they never made house calls – and had examined him thoroughly.

The result remained the same.

Somehow, one way or the other, Harry had managed to get himself knocked up. Two and a half months pregnant according to Jasen. The nausea? _Well, Mister Potter, that was just morning sickness, but I can subscribe some special potions if you want?_

Hysterical laughter was bubbling up and Harry clamped his mouth shut, his green eyes fixated on the various pamphlets Jasen had pushed into his hands before going back to the hospital with the instruction to seek out a Healer specialised in pregnancies.

Only three hours ago he had been blissfully unaware that wizards could get pregnant – seriously, why the fuck did nobody think to mention important things like this?! – and now he had to deal with the knowledge with only a few pamphlets to give him information.

His mind was chaos, his body numb. Questions – _so many questions_ – and panic were warring for attention; his magic buzzing like mad around him, his senses hyper aware of the way his clothes brushed against his skin, the sound of the crackling flames as he Floo'd back home, the stark whiteness of the tiles in the small foyer when he stumbled out of the fireplace, dropping sooth all over the newly polished floor.

_**Pregnant.** _

He was _pregnant_. There was _a child_ growing in him.

A child that wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. It didn't make sense. Nothing did. Because according to Jasen, wizards could only become pregnant through two ways: by using a fertility potion or …

Or …

But that couldn't be it, right? That wasn't possible. He wasn't … he couldn't be …

But he hadn't ingested a potion either. So if he hadn't taken a potion, then the only way he could have become pregnant was because …

"Harry?"

_Draco._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN2: Apologies if the Latin is wrong; admittedly my knowledge of Latin has become quite rusty given that it has been years since I studied it.
> 
> Please leave a review behind with your thoughts; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
> 
> See you all in the next chapter!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Here I am with the fourth chapter. Admittedly I'm not really that confident about the first part of this chapter, but well ... I hope it's not too bad *winces*
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments!
> 
> Warnings: dead body; mention of abortion; brief description of how someone died
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope you'll like it!

_Part 4_

"Harry?" Draco approached him, wariness darkening his eyes. "What's wrong? You look a bit pale."

"You're home early," Harry stated monotone, deflecting the blond's concern. He felt strangely hollow and his hand crunched the pamphlets together; the hard ridges of the crumpled paper digging into his palm.

"Yes, we could wrap up the meeting sooner than expected," Draco answered slowly, coming to a halt a foot away from Harry. He furrowed his eyebrows; his grey eyes briefly resting on the crumpled pamphlets. "Did something happen today?"

"I went to see Teddy and Andromeda today," Harry began slowly, not sure how to start this particular conversation.

"I know, you said so this morning," the blond pointed out bemused. "But what does that have to do with - "

"She, eh, I've, I've not been feeling well lately," Harry said abruptly, feeling restless all of a sudden.

Draco's face darkened, but he remained silent while the dark haired man gathered his thoughts.

"I – threw up when I was there and she cast a diagnostic charm." Harry paused, bit his lower lip and then continued with a faltering voice, "I – I'm not sure how to say this."

"Harry, what was the result? Is it something bad?" Draco asked, reaching out with his hand.

"I'm pregnant," Harry blurted out and the blond stilled, his eyes widening a fraction while his hand froze in its trajectory to Harry's arm.

Silence hung heavily between them for a while.

Harry wrapped his arms around him and looked away, not able to keep on staring into intense silver eyes. "Healer Jasen came. Did the examination and came up with the same result." He took a shuddering breath, panic once more threatening to overwhelm him. "He – he said that it either happened because of a potion, which I didn't take, or because …" he trailed off, not sure whether he wanted to voice the second possibility aloud.

Not sure whether he wanted to hear the second possibility be confirmed. Because if it was true, then Draco …

"Or because what, Harry?" Draco asked, his voice oddly neutral.

"Or because my partner is a magical creature," Harry finished and his nails dug through his sweater into his skin; every muscle in his body tensing up. His mouth felt too dry as he continued, "And seeing as I didn't take a fertility potion … There's only one option left. So what have you been hiding from me?"

Draco flinched slightly, but he clenched his jaw; a familiar stubborn look filling his eyes. "I didn't really hide it from you," he started cautiously.

"But you didn't tell me about it either," Harry surprised himself by laughing coldly. He shook his head, taking a step back, feeling jittery. "What are you, Draco? And why the hell haven't you told me about it?"

If there was one thing Harry really couldn't stand it was dishonesty. He had been lied to a lot in his life and he really couldn't deal with having his own lover lie to him.

The blond looked resigned and his shoulders slumped a bit as he gave in, "I'm a Veela."

Green eyes blinked, caught off guard. "A Veela? But – I thought Veela were girls."

Draco threw him a reproachful look. "Really, Harry, just because the only Veela present at Hogwarts during our fourth year were girls doesn't mean that Veela can only be girls. The Veela are made up of various branches. I descend from a different branch than the ones of Beauxbatons."

"Okay, fine." Harry pursed his lips together, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his boyfriend was a Veela. Although he probably could have guessed it on his own if he had time to really think about it. There was the bright blond hair that so many of the Veela girls of Beauxbatons had; the light coloured eyes; the sharp cheekbones; the unnatural grace … Draco's face had never transformed into something bird-like as far as Harry knew, but maybe that trait didn't manifest in every Veela. "So you're a Veela – why the hell didn't you tell me about this? Don't you think I have the right to know, considering _you got me pregnant?!_ " That last comment was shouted as frustration suddenly burst out.

Here he was, carrying a child that would never have even existed if he had known from the beginning that getting knocked up was a possibility. If he had known, he could have taken precautions – there had to be some sort of anticonception spells specifically designed to prevent people from getting pregnant from magical creatures, right? Hermione would have found something, probably.

_Oh Merlin. Hermione and Ron._

How the hell would they react if he told them the news? They already weren't Draco's biggest fans – this would just add fuel to the fire.

"I know I should have told you sooner, but …" Draco stopped and took a deep breath, staring down at the floor as if the answer was written there. "I didn't know how to, okay? People … They don't tend to react well to finding out their partner is a magical creature. Or well, maybe it's just because of my last name." He laughed bitterly and briefly, something black flickered behind his back.

Against his will, Harry found himself softening a bit and he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "You should have – did you really think I would have reacted badly? I know what it is like to live with prejudice," he pointed out and dropped the pamphlets on the nearby small table, rubbing absentmindedly over the reddened flesh of his palm. "You should have been honest from the beginning and - "

"I didn't want to screw this up, all right?" Draco snapped and a light flush tainted his cheekbones. "It's – I've wanted you for so long and I just wanted you to see me like me, not like a Veela." He seemed to be struggling with something.

"I wouldn't have seen you as a Veela only," the dark haired wizard protested instantly.

"Maybe not," Draco admitted. "But you might have thought that – I don't know. That maybe I was only interested in you because of my magical being heritage."

"And are you?" Harry couldn't help but ask and felt guilty when silver grey eyes looked at him betrayed.

"Of course not! I'm not controlled by my heritage," Draco growled and this time his face became blurry for a few seconds, the image of a sharp beak flickering in and out of sight rapidly, before he took a deep breath and his face became normal again. "Look, I know I should have told you. I should have been honest, but … I'm sorry."

All the fight left Harry and he slumped against the wall, exhaustion crashing into him. "Okay, fine," he muttered wearily and rubbed over his forehead. "But this still means that we have a problem now."

A couple of questions were now answered, though. The black mass behind Draco's back that he had occasionally caught a glimpse of – those must have been his wings. Harry could have sworn that a Veela's wings were supposed to be white, but maybe each branch of the Veela had their own special colour. Even Draco's fussing when it concerned Harry's health took on a whole new meaning; from the limited reading Harry had done on Veela – and perhaps he should read more considering he was in love with one apparently – he knew that Veela tended to be quite protective of the ones they loved.

He still would like to know how exactly he had ended up pregnant; was it merely because of his exposure to Draco's magic or was it something else? Had Draco done something that had caused the change? He did say he wasn't controlled by the Veela part, but what if his Veela part had caused the change in Harry without the blond being conscious of it?

But if Draco had known – would it change anything? He still was pregnant, no matter how it had happened.

He had so many questions, but he didn't know where to start and at the moment he felt too tired to even contemplate them.

"Why a problem?" Draco asked and he sounded honestly confused.

Green eyes stared at him in disbelief. "Because I'm pregnant, Draco," Harry said slowly. "It's not like I was expecting this to happen! Even if I did know, I'm not sure whether we should -"

"Don't you want children, Harry?" Draco questioned and he suddenly looked rather vulnerable; his hands reaching out and settling on Harry's hips as the blond wizard removed the remaining space between them with a few quick steps.

"Of course I do, but Draco, we never discussed this. And when I imagined children, I didn't think I would be the one carrying them!" Harry retorted agitatedly; exhaustion and irritation were battling each other and a headache was slowly but surely growing. "We've only been together for a year – don't you think that's too soon? And what about my work? Draco, I can't - "

An odd crooning sound filled the air and unwillingly Harry relaxed as the thrills and soft hums made his nerves tingle; making him feel like he was sinking down in a bath with warm water.

"We've known each other for years, Harry," Draco murmured and the crooning sound was now nothing more than an undercurrent. "We can handle taking care of a baby."

"That's not the point," Harry retorted and bit his lip. He wanted to point out that for the majority of the time they knew each other they wanted to curse one another, but that was not the issue now. "We never discussed having children. I still have my job as an Auror and that's not exactly a safe job. Don't you think this is the wrong time to - "

"Would you be able to get rid of our baby?" Draco demanded and his eyes glowed fiercely. "Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you're okay with taking a potion and aborting our child?"

Harry opened his mouth, but closed it again after a few seconds, resigned. Because the truth was: no, he wouldn't be able to do it. He didn't think he could drink a potion, get rid of the baby, without feeling remorse. Rationally, he knew this wasn't a good moment to keep the baby. The Aurors were being overwhelmed by new cases, old ones that kept dragging on as they couldn't find any new evidence; he and Draco had never discussed having children, hell, Harry hadn't even really considered the thought. They had only just started living together, trying to get used to having the other one constantly around.

Fuck, he hadn't even known it was possible for men to become pregnant and if he had to be honest, the thought of becoming a father, of carrying this baby and actually giving birth to it was daunting. But when he contemplated getting rid of it, forced himself to imagine going through with it, a part in him clenched with pain and he just knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it. Not without feeling guilty for the rest of his life and questioning whether he had made the right choice. It would haunt him for the rest of his life, have him wonder how the baby would have looked like.

_Fuck._

"No, I can't," Harry admitted quietly and looked away, starting when hands clamped down tighter around his hips. Surprised he looked up and his breath caught when he stared straight into brightly glittering silver.

"It's going to be okay," Draco swore and when he kissed Harry, the dark haired wizard was overwhelmed by the passion and love he could feel the blond pouring into their kiss. "We're going to keep the baby and we're going to be great parents."

Several more kisses were pressed against his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, the tip of his nose, his forehead … while hands slipped underneath his sweater, caressed his belly reverently.

"It's going to be okay, I promise," Draco murmured in his ear and Harry closed his eyes, willing himself to believe his lover.

* * *

Now that they knew why Harry was nauseous so often, Draco had immediately prepared a concoction that would keep the nausea at bay. Harry had been sceptic about it, having tried various potions before with no success, but he was pleasantly surprised when the nausea did disappear after he drank the unknown potion.

Not being nauseous for the entire day gave him some energy back and that made it easier to come to terms with the fact that he was going to become a parent in less than seven months.

Once the shock of being told he was pregnant had worn off, he and Draco had sat down and discussed what they would do now. Obviously Harry would no longer be able to take on actual field missions. One well-placed curse could mean the end of the pregnancy and that was something they both really wanted to avoid.

So desk work it would be then. Harry wasn't looking forward to being bound to a desk for months, but if the alternative was his baby getting hurt … Well, the decision was easily made.

Draco also informed him how Harry had actually managed to end up pregnant.

"So I was overexposed to your magic," Harry repeated slowly, bemused.

Draco visibly hesitated. "Not exactly," he admitted and sighed, clasping his hands together as he leant slightly forwards. "My magic did help create the necessary items together with yours, but that only happened because I … because you're my mate."

"Your mate. Like some kind of soulmate?" Harry questioned and he wasn't sure what to think of that. On the one hand, it was a nice thought, even romantic, to know that there was one person who was made for him, who was destined for him. On the other hand, he had more than enough of prophecies and how they could fuck up lives and he couldn't say that he liked the thought of not being able to choose who he fell in love with.

"I know what you're thinking," Draco interrupted his thoughts and he sounded wearily amused. "Yes, you can compare it to being soulmates, but it's not like we didn't have a choice. If you hadn't been interested in me, I would have got over it and found someone else to share my life with. But because I consider you my mate, my magic got a bit overexcited."

"But couldn't you have warned me about this?" Harry asked and a spark of annoyance flared up. "Clearly you knew what would happen if you considered me to be your mate, so why didn't you - "

"It's not completely my fault that you're pregnant now," Draco cut him off with a drawl. "The desire to form a family has to come from both partners. So _darling_ , it looks like you wanted a child more than you thought," he smirked, putting emphasis on the pet name.

The dark haired wizard spluttered a bit, but couldn't really think of a protest and he felt his cheeks heating up a bit. So maybe the desire to have a family had been present in the back of his mind for as long as he could remember, but that that buried desire had been big enough for the magic to work with …

A surprised sound escaped his mouth when Draco swiftly pressed their lips together in a soft kiss, one arm slipping around Harry's waist.

"There's no shame in wanting to have a family," Draco murmured, fingers tracing over Harry's spine. "We're going to be fine."

"Keep those words in mind when we tell your mother and my friends," Harry huffed, but couldn't supress a smile when Draco chuckled; his warm breath tickling Harry's neck.

They spent the rest of the weekend curled up around each other, discussing the baby and the Healers they could go to and by the time darkness descended outside and they went to sleep, excitement fluttered in his stomach and a silly smile stayed plastered on his face as he placed his hand on his stomach, another hand joining his on top.

Despite the initial shock, he was starting to look forward to becoming a father soon. Forming a family with Draco … _He couldn't wait_.

* * *

"Mister Potter, can I speak with you privately for a moment?" Sebastian Hales asked with a polite, but apologetic smile.

As soon as Hermione had calmed down after hearing that her best friend was pregnant, she had immediately compiled a list of Healers who were the best at dealing with male pregnancies. Sebastian Hales had been at the top of her list and Harry and Draco had decided to give him a chance. The greying man had welcomed them cordially and the twinkle in his dark brown eyes had reminded Harry of Dumbledore.

After asking some general questions, Hales had examined Harry and had cheerfully pronounced him healthy, the baby growing as it should. That had been a great relief to Harry, because he had feared that something might have been wrong with the baby; aside from not having had a healthy childhood – till this day Molly was still fussing over him, making sure he ate enough – he had gone on several dangerous missions these past few months when he had already been carrying a child and those missions could have posed a risk.

Harry shared a befuddled look with Draco and the blond narrowed his eyes slightly before he inclined his head.

"I'll see you outside," Draco murmured and gave Harry's left hand a quick squeeze. He offered the Healer a polite nod before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

"Is there something else you need to know for my file?" Harry asked confused. He had assumed that Hales had all the information he needed for his medical file.

"Judging by your explanation, you had no clue that a pregnancy was possible, correct?" Hales inquired, folding his hands on top of Harry's file.

Harry shrugged, offering an embarrassed smile. "No, but I assume there are more things in the Wizarding world that I don't know about. Growing up with my Muggle family didn't really give me a lot of opportunities to learn everything about this world."

Maybe he should start learning more about the wizarding culture; who knew what kind of surprises were still out there?

Hales hummed thoughtfully. "But you have decided to keep it."

There was something in the older man's voice that made Harry frown and unease settled in him. "Yes, Draco and I talked about it and we agreed to keep the baby." He drummed his fingertips on the armchair; his smile turning hesitant, unsure. "Why?"

"It's not my business, but …" Hales hesitated, but continued gravely, "Are you sure you want to keep the baby?"

Harry stiffened; his fingers frozen on the armchair. "Yes, I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked coolly, already disliking the direction this conversation had taken.

"The Wizarding community prefers to keep to themselves," Hales answered stiffly; the twinkle in his eyes completely gone. "Wizard and witches – they'd rather not carry the children of magical creatures. If they do wind up pregnant, they choose to terminate in order not to – dilute the bloodline, so to speak."

"Well, it's a good thing that I don't care about diluting my bloodline then," Harry said icily and rose from his chair, hot anger making his wand spark in reply. "Thank you for your time, Healer Hales, but you can remove me from your patient list."

"Mister Potter, let's not be hasty." Hales looked a bit pale as he shot up from his seat. "I'm just saying what others - "

"I didn't fight in the war for discrimination to keep existing," Harry spat and left before his anger would get the overhand. The urge to curse the Healer was strong, but he held back, not wanting to deal with the outcome of that.

Draco looked up surprised when Harry stormed out of the room. He quickly stood up, concern flitting over his face when he noticed the furious look on his lover's face. "What happened?" he asked in a low voice, hand reaching out to touch Harry's wrist.

"Let's go home. We're going to search another Healer," Harry murmured, taking a deep breath.

"Why? What did he say?" Draco questioned, but followed Harry down the hallway.

Harry snorted harshly, jabbing quickly down on the button of the elevator. "He basically told me that it would be better to get rid of the baby, because you're part Veela and not just a wizard. Fucking blood purity and all that crap."

Draco's snarl made a nearby Mediwitch scuttle away in fear, clutching a clipboard to her chest. "Who does he think he is?" His nails were visibly getting longer as he snatched his wand out of his pocket. "I'm going to - "

Harry grabbed his arm and practically dragged the blond into the elevator when the doors slid open. "Trust me, we'd only get in trouble and I'm not in the mood to deal with that," he said curtly, but the desire to curse the Healer for daring to suggest an abortion kept brimming right underneath his skin. He usually wasn't so quick to react with a curse, but hearing the Healer so callously talking about his baby, making it sound like his baby wasn't good enough because its other father was part Veela … It made him furious.

He had hoped that the war would have made people realise that being prejudiced would lead to nothing but pain and misery, but clearly he had been too optimistic.

"He's going to regret talking like that about our baby," Draco swore darkly, but the sharp nails disappeared and he wrapped his arms around Harry's back, ignoring how the only other occupant of the elevator – a wide eyed boy – stared at them baffled.

Harry sighed, but relaxed a bit in Draco's hold; anger leaking out as comfort of the warm embrace seeped into him.

They would find another Healer, one who wouldn't be prejudiced against either Draco or the baby he was carrying. There had to be at least one person on Hermione's list who could actually be decent, right?

* * *

Two weeks after the meeting with Hales – which still left a sour taste in Harry's mouth whenever he thought about it – Harry and Ron were called up to go to a house in a quiet neighbourhood in Balham where someone had alerted the Aurors of a dead body.

The coroner was already there by the time the two Aurors arrived, kneeling next to the body, which laid at the foot of the staircase.

"You're sure you're feeling fine?" Ron asked; his face doing that complicated dance where he was torn between being weirded out and concerned – a look he now carried whenever he referred to the pregnancy. All in all, he had reacted quite well when Harry told him about the baby; sure, his face had become as red as a cooked lobster, but the shouting had been kept to a minimum and he had been rather supportive.

"Yes, I'm fine." Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I've been taking the potions Draco made for me."

Ron still didn't look convinced. "Maybe you should - "

"Who is the victim?" Harry asked, raising his voice to attract the attention of Jonathan Greenwock.

The coroner looked up, offering a distracted smile. He lowered his wand and rose up from his knelt position. "A Healer in Saint Mungos. Sebastian Hales. He was found by his sister. Sarah is talking to her at the moment."

Harry froze; heart quickening. When he looked down, he was met with the sight of Hales dressed in a grey robe and dark blue pyjama trousers, his limbs askew; dark brown eyes stared lifelessly up at the ceiling. Several shards of glass glinted in the faint morning light next to his left hand; some amber coloured liquid darkening the carpet. The smell of liquor filled the air with a sharp sweet scent.

He was dead. Hales was dead. Harry had only talked to him two weeks ago, so how …

"Is it murder or an accident?" Ron inquired, frowning as he studied the body.

"I haven't finished my examination yet, but he broke his neck – which I assume happened when he fell down the stairs – and judging by the various empty bottles we found in his study, he was quite drunk," Greenwock explained and pursed his lips together, tapping his wand against his thigh. "Nothing suggests murder, though. Sarah told me there were no signs of forced entry and she couldn't detect any dark magic either. I'll have to examine him further at the Ministry, but as far as I'm concerned this was an unfortunate accident."

"So what?" Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Hales got drunk, stumbled around and fell down the stairs, then? Why didn't he use a Sober Up potion or a spell or so?"

"If he really drank all those bottles at once, I imagine he had a hard time thinking clearly, let alone have the presence of mind to use a spell or drink a potion," Greenwock retorted dryly and shook his head. "Sorry that they made you two come out here for this, but this was just an accident. A very unfortunate one, but still an accident."

"Will you send us your report once you're finished?" Harry asked, finally tearing his gaze off Hales. It was quite – disconcerting to see the man dead when he had argued with the older man barely two weeks ago. His hand drifted down on its own accord, but he snatched it away and stuffed it in his pocket before he could place it on his stomach.

Kingsley and Ron were the only ones at the Ministry who knew he was pregnant and he was going to keep it that way. No need to attract unnecessary attention.

"Naturally." Greenwock nodded and then returned his attention to the dead Healer, murmuring spells that made the body glow a soft white.

"Well, our work here is done for the time being then, I guess," Ron sighed and jerked his head to the front door. "Let's go, Harry. We might as well tackle that paper mountain in our office now that we don't have a real case."

Harry smiled weakly and after casting one last troubled look at Hales, he followed his best friend out of the house. He supposed he should be glad that for once it wasn't a murder case, but …

The hairs in the back of his neck rose up and his muscles tensed up in response to the sensation of being watched. Casting the Mirror spell surreptitiously, he used a puddle of water at his right to check who was watching him.

There was nobody.

Only a raven that let out a shrill screech and flew out of a tree, disappearing out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN2: This story is taking on a life of its own *blinks* We're nearing the ending for real this time. Only one or two chapters left normally.
> 
> Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
> 
> See you all in the next chapter!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Sorry for the delay in posting; I had to finish it today *coughs* This chapter here is where it starts to become dark, so HEED THE WARNINGS.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments!
> 
> Warnings: form of manipulation; mention of miscarriage and dead baby in the form of nightmares (not explicit, but I thought it was better to warn about it); MPreg; slightly Dark Draco; I think those are the most important warnings for now
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope you'll like it!

_Part 5_

A letter with the insignia of Saint Mungos was waiting on the kitchen table when Harry walked into the room after finishing up the boring reports. He draped his Auror robes over the back of a chair and snatched the letter off the table, opening it curiously.

"At least I got some good news," he muttered when he had finished reading the letter. A soft 'thump' upstairs made him look up and the letter still clutched in his hand, he made his way up the staircase, passing a few paintings of a lake and a forest.

"Draco?" he called out and knocked on the closed door.

"Yes?"

Harry swung the door open at the reply. Draco was seated behind his desk, two thick tomes open on each side of him and he was jotting something down on the parchment. There was a picture of a vial containing a yellow greenish liquid in one of the tomes, but Harry had never been good at Potions and couldn't even guess what the potion was called.

"Who is the letter from?" Draco asked, lowering his quill as he looked up and stopped writing.

"Ah, Saint Mungos. Well, more specifically Healer Daler," Harry replied, waving the letter as he stepped closer. "She agreed to a consultation. We can see her next Thursday."

"That's good," Draco hummed, leaning back into his chair and stretched his arms with a soft groan. "Let's hope she isn't as prejudiced as the last one."

"Yeah," Harry sighed and his stomach twisted when Hales' dead body flashed through his mind again. The image hadn't left him alone all day and it had made concentrating on his reports quite difficult.

The only small mercy had been that the sensation of being looked at hadn't lasted long and nobody had followed him to or out the Ministry, but unease had lingered throughout the rest of the day and he was more than glad to be home again.

"Did something happen?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows, concern flitting across his face. "You don't look so well."

"Thanks." Harry gave a self-depreciating chuckle and then pursed his lips together, folding and unfolding the letter as he contemplated whether or not to mention the case of this morning.

Draco pushed back his chair and surprised Harry by tugging him closer at his wrist, forcing him to step closer and sit down on the blond's lap or risk tripping over his own feet. "You want to tell me what's on your mind?" he asked softly, slipping his arms around Harry's waist.

The dark haired man hesitated for a moment longer, before he sighed. "Someone alerted the Aurors about a dead body they found in a house and Ron and I got called out to check up on it."

"I thought you weren't going to do fieldwork anymore until the baby is born?" Draco frowned; disapproval layered through his tone.

"Checking whether or not it was murder isn't really fieldwork," Harry defended himself. "Anyway, it turned out that it wasn't murder but the victim died when he fell off the stairs."

Grey eyes narrowed slightly. "While it is unfortunate for that man's family, why are you so troubled by that? It's not like this was the first time you saw a dead body."

Ignoring the blond's rather crude tone, Harry tapped his fingers erratically on the desk, shifting a bit on Draco's lap. "Because the dead man turned out to be Hales, okay?" he admitted and bit his lip. "I just – it was weird to see him lying there on the floor when I had talked to him not even three weeks ago." The chuckle that escaped him was slightly shrill and he grimaced. "Usually the dead bodies I see during my job are the results of curses or creatures' attacks or even potions. Not – not simply because someone was too drunk and fell down the stairs. And to have it be someone I spoke to just a few weeks ago … I don't know; I guess I'm just … It was just weird, you know?"

Draco was quiet for a while and Harry found himself focusing on the almost hypnotizing sensation that was Draco's hand trailing up and down over his back. Up, fingertips dancing slowly over his spine; down, a hand dragging over his back, the heat searing through his sweater.

"You're not going to like this," Draco started, sounding almost contemplatively, "but I don't feel sorry for him. At all. He had it coming if you ask me," he snorted and his hands grabbed Harry's hips when the man tried to get off his lap.

"Draco, the man is dead." Harry frowned. "Even if he was quite prejudiced, that doesn't mean he deserved to - "

Draco snarled and the unexpected sound made Harry shut up immediately, instead gaping at the blond. "That man," Draco hissed, bringing his face closer as his hands tightened around Harry's hips, "thought that our baby deserved to die because of what he or she is. I'm not sorry at all to hear that that son of a bitch is dead. Don't expect me to feel sorry for him, because I won't. He doesn't deserve your pity or your sympathy either, Harry."

Harry let out his breath slowly and studied Draco's face; the stubborn and unforgiving glint in those grey eyes. It was easy to forget at times that Draco could be quite ruthless. Well, maybe not forget but after having been treated to the softer side of the blond, Harry caught himself being surprised whenever Draco showed his ruthless side nowadays. That same mouth that whispered praise and love and endearments and could kiss him both tenderly and passionately could easily tear someone down viciously if the blond felt inclined to do so.

Draco was also not a very forgiving man and Harry knew all too well how protective the other wizard could be of his loved ones. It was not difficult to imagine that the blond would still be pissed off at Hales' remark about their baby. If Harry was honest, so was he still.

"I'm sorry," he muttered and slipped his hands around Draco's neck, toying with the tufts of soft, blond hair at his nape. "It's not – I'm not forgiving him for what he said about our baby and it's not like I'm really going to miss him, but it was just unsettling, you know?"

"You're far too good," Draco muttered and only he could manage to make that sound like an insult.

Harry grinned wryly. "I'm pretty sure opinions vary about that."

Draco snorted; one of his hands sliding up Harry's back to tug gently at dark hair. "No, I'm pretty sure everyone will agree with me on that," he retorted dryly and stole a quick kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were glowing faintly with mischief and a layer of lust. "How about I take your mind off of things, hm?"

His lips were already practically devouring Harry's, hands slipping underneath his sweater, touching sensitive skin, before Harry could reply and the younger man gave in with a soft sigh, tangling his fingers in fine, blond hair.

A distraction from this unsettling day sounded perfect.

* * *

Hales' death was ruled as an accident and the file was closed nearly as quickly as it had opened; the funeral held a week after they had found his body.

The start of April not only announced Harry entering his fourth month of his pregnancy, but also the ninth birthday of his godson, which they spent at Malfoy Manor.

Honestly Harry had been shocked when Mrs. Malfoy had suggested that they held the party at the manor; she and her sister were still walking on relatively thin ice and their conversations – the few they had had so far – were stilted and awkward as they tried to figure out subjects that were safe to discuss.

But Mrs. Malfoy had offered and Andromeda had accepted and so Harry found himself on the tenth of April in the large, impressive garden; nursing a drink that smelt faintly like roses, but tasted like peaches. He wasn't entirely certain why the scent and the taste were completely different, but it was delicious and it was one of the few drinks that the protective Veela hadn't snatched out of his hand.

"Teddy seems to be enjoying himself," Hermione remarked amused as she sidled up next to him; a champagne flute with a dark red liquid held in her right hand.

"He has cake, candy and presents," Harry retorted dryly. "Of course he's enjoying himself."

She laughed, pushing back a stubborn lock behind her ear. Her light brown eyes darted to his stomach quickly. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah, can't complain," he smiled and took a sip from his drink. "The morning sickness seems to be gone completely now, so I'm really happy with that."

"I can imagine that," she chuckled. "I was quite happy when I stopped feeling like I was going to puke every time I moved. You're going to have your next appointments with the same Healer?"

"Yes, the first appointment went well, so we're going to have the rest with her as well," he replied, smiling when Teddy looked at him and showed off his new book about fairy tales that he had received from Mrs. Malfoy.

"Well, I'm glad you found a Healer you're comfortable with," she told him sincerely.

"Harry."

Harry craned his neck and his smile grew when he noticed Draco rapidly approaching him. Hermione let out a strange huff.

"I'm going to see whether there's still some cake left," she murmured and walked away before Harry could say something.

"One day you and my friends will manage to talk civilly," Harry sighed, but leant back; a hard chest securely against his back as hands casually rested on his hips.

"That's hoping for a miracle, Harry," Draco drawled and rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. "The party is going well, hm?"

"Yeah, Teddy is having a lot of fun," Harry chuckled, watching how his godson's face lit up with delight when he opened his godfather's present and encountered the brightly glittering Snitch. The Snitch came with some restrictions; it wouldn't fly as high as a regular one and wouldn't fly too fast, but it would give the nine year old a challenge.

"Thank you, Uncle Harry!" Teddy yelled excitedly and dashed over to give the older man a tight hug.

"Careful, Teddy," Draco reprimanded the young boy and Teddy immediately loosened his embrace, a flush of guilt colouring his cheeks.

"Sorry, uncle," he apologised, taking a step back, clasping his hands behind his back.

"It's fine, Teddy," Harry reassured him and quickly ruffled his hair. He grinned and winked. "Now you can practice Quidditch better."

Teddy grinned, eyes switching from brown to a dark forest green, glittering brightly before he ran back to the table, eager to open the rest of his presents.

"I'm not breakable, you know," Harry remarked lightly, squeezing Draco's wrists quickly.

"Doesn't matter," Draco murmured and nuzzled a spot behind Harry's right ear. His thumbs started rubbing circles over Harry's hipbones through his trousers. "I heard something interesting when I was at the Ministry yesterday."

"Oh? What?" Harry asked confused, trying to recall whether anything interesting had taken place. He had been at his desk the entire day, reviewing some old cases. As far as he knew, nothing really out of the … Ah shit.

Right at the moment Harry realised what Draco was referring to, the blond replied, "Apparently a convict managed to escape his two guards and make it up three floors before he was Stunned. He was caught on the floor beneath yours. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it?" His tone was calm, but odd, as if he was restraining himself.

"I heard about it from Ron in the afternoon," Harry admitted and clucked his tongue. "Honestly I had practically forgotten about it. It has happened before and before you say anything, one, I can protect myself just fine and two, he wouldn't even have been able to pass the wards surrounding our office," he said, already anticipating Draco's argument.

"I know you can protect yourself, Harry," Draco sighed and one of his hands drifted idly up, settling on his stomach, where the barest hint of a belly was visible through Harry's sweater. "But I don't like how close that convict came to you. What if you had been on the floor when he escaped? There are no wards there that could have protected you."

"But he wasn't," Harry muttered and pursed his lips. "And even if I was, again, I would have been able to defend myself. I was the best in Defence, remember?"

"I don't like you being near danger," Draco insisted and lips brushed quickly across a sensitive spot in Harry's neck. "You're not undefeatable, Harry. One wrong move and - "

"I know I'm not undefeatable," Harry said sharply. "But I'm not going to lock myself up in a bubble either."

"I don't expect you to either," Draco said soothingly and pulled the pregnant man closer to him. "I just want you and our baby to be safe. The Ministry – it's not a safe place."

"What do you expect me to do, Draco?" Harry sighed, shaking his head warily.

The soft crooning – a sound Harry was slowly becoming used to as Draco didn't hide away his Veela side anymore – made Draco's chest vibrate and Harry shivered lightly as the high thrilling sound reached his ears.

"It would be better – and I would feel better – if you stayed home for the remainder of your pregnancy," Draco murmured and the crooning became softer until it was a faint buzz in Harry's ears. "I don't want you to get hurt and working at the Ministry … It's not safe. Especially not now that you're in your second trimester. You know what the Healer said: your magic will start acting up more and more. Do you really want to risk it?"

Harry opened his mouth, but closed it again when he realised he didn't know what to say. He knew his magic could start acting up now, but it wasn't as if much harm could befall him if he stayed behind a desk, right? The convict's escape had been a fluke and the man hadn't even reached Harry's floor.

But he didn't want his baby to get hurt either. Still, would it really be better if he took off time from work? Surely, looking through reports wouldn't be too strenuous and his baby would remain safe.

"Just think about it, okay?" Draco said, a forced light tone in his voice. "I don't want to lock you up, Harry. I just want you and our baby to be safe."

Harry's grip around his glass tightened slightly and he nodded; heaviness settling in his stomach.

"Let's go back to Teddy, hm?" Draco suggested and slender fingers gripped Harry's chin, turning his head around so they could share a proper kiss.

Harry forced himself to smile. "Yes, let's."

* * *

"Are you sure, Harry?" Kingsley frowned, leaning back into his chair with a slightly perplexed look in his eyes.

Harry couldn't really blame him for his confusion. "Yes, I'm sure," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think – it's better this way. If anyone sees my magic acting up, questions will be asked and I'd rather avoid that."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "It will be difficult to keep everyone in the dark once you have the baby."

"I'm aware of that," Harry snorted; his right hand absentmindedly covering his stomach. "But if I can keep my pregnancy off the radar for now, that would be brilliant. I'd rather not deal with the press now." He paused and added wryly, "And you know how fast gossip can spread in the department."

The older man grimaced and inclined his head in agreement. "Unfortunately I have to agree with you," he sighed. "All right, if you're certain, I'll send the paperwork through."

"Thanks, Kingsley," Harry smiled gratefully and they shook hands before Harry left the office.

Officially the paperwork would state that his magic had been dangerously depleted due to a secret mission and he needed at least six months to recover fully. Harry didn't like abusing his fame, but in this case it would come in handy. The higher-ups were too afraid of losing the public's favour to look into the real reason why Harry was taking off six months. They were well aware that Harry would only need to talk to the press once for them to lose all favour and receive a shitload of difficult questions should they insist he kept working.

He offered a distracted smile at a witch who was busy jotting down notes in her notebook and leant against one of the elevator's walls; rubbing over his tired eyes.

Several nights during the past few weeks he had been plagued by nightmares and they were slowly taking their toll on him. He was used to nightmares – he had had more than his fair share when he was younger – but while he had been able to shake them off relatively quickly in the past, these nightmares lingered, had his chest seizing in panic whenever he thought about them.

They weren't very clear; each scene rather hazy. Each one was different, each one didn't last long, but every single one of them had one thing in common: his baby died. Sometimes it happened when he was still carrying the baby and then the cause was a stray hex or a curse. Another nightmare showed him tripping and falling down the stairs, resulting in a miscarriage. Another one had him cursed and when the time was there for his baby to be born, the baby wasn't breathing anymore.

That the nightmares unsettled him was more than an understatement. Each one had him gasping for air, throat dry, chest heaving with panic as he forced himself to calm down and reach out to the small thread that connected his magic to that of his baby, to assure himself that everything was fine with his child.

Ever since that particular conversation in the Malfoy gardens, the fear that he could lose his baby had been steadily growing; first a lingering presence in the back of his mind, now it occupied his mind for the majority of his days.

It wasn't healthy, he knew. There was also no real reason for him to worry so much; the latest check-up had revealed nothing wrong with the baby. In fact his pregnancy was progressing as it should. And yet that nagging fear wouldn't leave him alone.

Until he had finally snapped last night and told Draco he would be taking time off for the remainder of the pregnancy. He wanted to keep working until he couldn't anymore, but if a break from work would mean that the panic and worry would finally subside … Well, he was willing to make that sacrifice if his baby would remain safe.

Anything to keep the nightmares away and his baby safe.

Ron had been dumbfounded by his decision, but had agreed that it was better for Harry and after that Harry just had to inform his boss about his decision.

Throwing one last look at the Atrium – just for six months, he reminded himself, it wasn't like he wouldn't see it for the rest of his life anymore – he took a pinch of Floo powder and let the green flames whisk him away to his home, where Draco was already waiting for him with a small, but warm smile and a tender kiss; hands with the faint shimmer of claws cupping his belly reverently.

He was home. Safe and protected. Nothing could harm him or his baby, especially not with Draco at his side.

"I love you," Draco practically purred, arms closing around Harry, pressing him tightly to the Veela's body.

Green eyes closed and Harry rested his forehead against the blond's shoulder; tension bleeding out of him at the comforting touch. "I love you too."

* * *

"It's supposed to be spring," Harry grumbled to himself, closing the window in the living room with a quick flick of his wand. "Hell, it's nearly summer."

As if that was its cue, lightning cleaved through the dark clouds and thunder rolled after it, not that far away anymore. The branches of the trees in the garden swayed back and forth, the strong wind treating them like toys.

Harry sighed, slipping his wand back into his pocket. It was the end of May and while this week had started with nice weather, a storm had rolled over the country this morning and was now wreaking havoc on the town where their house was located.

"Your papa is going to be in a bad mood once he's home again," he hummed, stroking his belly. Being five months pregnant, his stomach had become rounded enough for everyone to realise that he was carrying a child and didn't merely eat too much. Not that anyone outside their closest friends and immediate family knew about the baby; Harry's only visits out of the house were restricted to Ron's and Hermione's place, Andromeda's house and Malfoy Manor where Mrs. Malfoy delighted in helping him plan the nursery. Harry thought he would feel trapped, only seeing four different places at most now, but he felt more at ease in his own house now than he did anywhere else.

Draco had smirked and teased him that it was probably his urge to nest that had him refusing to really go outside. He had paid for that remark with a mild Stinging Hex.

"We both know he really dislikes getting his hair wet, right?" Harry grinned when he felt a small nudge against his thumb. A week ago Healer Daler had informed him and Draco that he was expecting a boy and to say that the both of them had been ecstatic about that news had been an understatement.

They had barely got out of their bed for the entire weekend. Harry was still sporting some vague bruises where lips had sucked too harshly and fingerprints on his hips where hands had gripped too tightly. Not that he had any complaints; he had been an enthusiastic participant and Draco carried his fair share of love bites.

A harsh 'THUMP' upstairs startled him and he looked up, furrowing his eyebrows. It couldn't be anyone sneaking in – the wards would have been blaring the second they sensed an intruder. They were even more sensitive than the ones placed around Malfoy Manor and that was saying something.

One hand gripping his wand and the other one flat on top of his stomach, Harry walked upstairs; the faint creaking of the steps drowned out by the sound of the thunder clapping above the house. He pricked up his ears, trying to locate where the sound was coming from. By now the noise had a steady rhythm; every ten seconds the thumping noise filled the house.

The first floor was clear, but as he ascended the staircase the noise became louder and he realised that the noise was coming from the end of the corridor: Draco's private room.

The blond wizard must have left his window open when he left two hours ago for a meeting.

Harry hesitated in front of the closed door, recalling Draco's warning that he shouldn't enter the room if the blond wasn't there. Then the window clattered again and he huffed, swinging open the door. There was only so much of that noise he could tolerate; Draco would just have to deal with it.

The noise did indeed turn out to be the window closing and flying open again whenever the wind slammed into it; it was a wonder the glass hadn't shattered yet. Rolling his eyes, he pointed his wand at the window and made sure it was shut tightly. The sound of the storm was now muted; a dull, faint roar.

Satisfied that the irritating noise had stopped, Harry turned around, intending to go back downstairs where his book was waiting for him. Before he could take more than a few steps, his eyes fell on a book which was lying cover up on the floor. It must have fallen off the desk when the strong wind entered through the window.

Shaking his head, Harry bent down and picked up the book, a bit surprised at the unexpected heavy weight. He closed the book and he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the title of the book: ' _Hidden Pathways of Legilimency'_.

"Huh," Harry mumbled, a bit intrigued. He opened the book again and looked curiously through the index. After the failed attempts that had been Snape teaching him Occlumency, Harry hadn't thought much about Occlumency or Legilimency; he hadn't known Draco had an interest in it.

One particular chapter title had him cocking his head: ' _Suggestions and Their Power_ '. Feeling a bit disturbed for reasons he couldn't immediately identify, he hastily put down the book on the desk, eyeing it warily. He knew Draco wasn't completely innocent; his moral compass was rather shrewd, but surely he wasn't messing around with Legilimency.

_Of course not_ , Harry reassured himself. Draco might not be completely good, but he wasn't evil either. He also knew that the Ministry was still keeping an eye on him; no way would he be so stupid as to use Legilimency on someone.

_He's just interested, that's all. Just pure academically interest like Hermione has her interests_ , Harry thought, but he resolved to ask Draco about the book as soon as he came home this afternoon.

Lightning cut through the darkened room and a faint glint at his right had Harry turning around in surprise. The source of the glinting came from one of the lower shelves and the dark haired wizard realised that it was a ward shimmering whenever lightning struck, nearly completely hidden behind a thick tome. There were only a few wards that nature's elements like fire and lightning could detect and it caused Harry to become quite wary as he walked over to the bookcase.

What was Draco hiding behind a ward that was meant to conceal and suppress any magical residue? Why did he feel the need to hide something in the first place? And why had he kept it a secret from Harry?

"Dispello," Harry said clearly and waved his wand in the complicated pattern that would get rid of the Concealment Ward.

The ward trembled, shivered as if it was cold and then melted away, revealing …

A key the Aurors used to gain entrance to the corridor of the holding cells. A key that was infused with a bit of all too familiar magic.

Harry's key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN2: Next chapter will be the last one - and this time I mean it. 
> 
> Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
> 
> I hope to see you all in the last chapter!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Many, many apologies for the delay! I had wanted to get it finished last week, but I've been rewriting sentences and even entire scenes because I didn't like how they were written at first and I wanted to create a good ending. To be honest, I'm still not entirely confident about this chapter - which turned out to be quite longer than I anticipated - but well ... *sighs* 
> 
> HEED THE WARNINGS!
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments!
> 
> Warnings: Angst, a shitload of angst; Dark Draco; short, implicit birth scene; very conflicted and confused Harry; implied character death; some sort of implied mind control. Just prepare for a heavy, last chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope this chapter doesn't suck too badly *winces*

_Part 6_

He stared at the key for a long time; his heart beating so quickly it surprised him that it hadn't beat straight through his chest yet. He reached out with his hand, but snatched it back right before he could touch the key.

What the fuck was his key doing in Draco's private room? Why did the blond have his key? How had he managed to steal Harry's key without him knowing about it? He had kept his key on him the entire time and now that he wasn't working anymore, he had it locked up in a drawer in his own private room.

On an impulse he snapped, "Accio Auror Key!"

A floor below him two loud 'thumps' sounded and there was a buzzing noise, as of bees hovering above flowers, before his key came flying into the room, right into his palm. He stared at it before he looked at the same key resting in the bookcase.

Just as he suspected; the key lying in front of him in the bookcase was a copy. A very convincing copy. The particular Copy spell that was used for this ring, that even managed to copy the sliver of magic that lingered in his original ring, was classified as Dark Magic, precisely because it could copy someone's magic. Being caught using it would lead to at least two years in Azkaban.

Harry swallowed and his hand clenched tightly around his key. Knowing that his key had been copied and not stolen did nothing to answer the questions he had. When had Draco copied his key? How long had he had his key without the dark haired wizard being aware of it? Why had he felt the need to copy the key? The ring only allowed entrance to one part of the Ministry and that was the …

He inhaled sharply, eyes growing even wider, as suspicion settled in. Surely what he was thinking couldn't be true? There was no way Draco would have used the key to …

The sound of the front door opening made him freeze up, panic making his chest tighten.

A feeling he never thought he would have around the Veela.

"Harry?" Draco called out and there was the sound of him dropping his bag.

There was no time. He needed more time to – to …

Hastily he erected the Concealment Ward again and the copied ring disappeared behind it. He rose up, ignoring how his back protested faintly, and slipped his key into his pocket, turning around right on time for Draco to halt in the doorway, still wearing his robes which were dripping rain onto the floor.

His blond hair was plastered against his face; his cheeks slightly reddish and his eyes were slightly narrowed when Draco asked, "What are you doing here, Harry? I thought we had agreed to stay out of each other's private rooms if the other wasn't present?" He sounded weary, not angry, surprisingly enough.

Harry swallowed and offered a weak smile, knowing better than to reveal what he had just found now. He needed to do a bit more investigating; maybe there was a good reason – an innocent reason – why Draco had copied his key. Of course there was never a good reason to copy an Auror's key, but if the alternative was Draco having …

He clamped down on the thought, not allowing it to surface completely. His face was often an open book, as Draco liked to tease him, and it wouldn't do to make Draco suspicious now.

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," he grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "But you left the window open and the wind was playing with it too much for my liking."

"You got annoyed by the noise?" Draco smirked and cocked his head.

"You would have got annoyed too," Harry retorted and crossed the room to help Draco get out of his robes. "Let's get rid of these before you catch a cold. Your mother told me that you're an absolute nightmare when you're ill."

"I am not an absolute nightmare!" Draco protested immediately and sniffed, not objecting to Harry opening the clasp and dropping the wet robes on the floor. "I simply am not fond of being ill."

"Nobody is," Harry remarked and rolled his eyes, pushing against Draco's shoulders to get him to back out of the room. "Go change into something else. That'll warm you up."

"I can think of something else to warm me up," Draco drawled and the underlying leer in his eyes made quite clear what he was thinking of.

"Maybe once your hands aren't freezing anymore," Harry smiled sharply and stepped out of the reach of Draco's grabby hands, ignoring how his body gave a slight twinge of interest.

"Fine." Grey eyes rolled before they softened and Draco pressed a soft kiss on Harry's lips; his hands reaching out to cup Harry's belly briefly. "I'll see you downstairs, okay?"

Harry nodded and turned around quickly; the sound of the door of Draco's private room being locked echoing around him. He swallowed and rested a hand on his belly. He didn't want to suspect Draco, didn't want to believe that the man he loved was capable of doing such horrible things, but he needed to know for certain.

Either there was a relatively innocent reason for the copying of Harry's key or there wasn't one. And if there wasn't a good reason …

He'd cross that bridge once he encountered it.

* * *

He had to wait two days before he could start his investigation. Draco had decided to not work at all during the weekend and instead sat down with Harry to look through Mrs. Malfoy's plans for the nursery; his hands never straying far from Harry's body.

Harry had never felt so conflicted before. On the one hand this was his lover, his mate, the father of his child, the one he had intended to spend the rest of his life with, the one who made him feel safer than anyone else could. On the other hand there was the possibility that he was hiding more than the occasional use of Dark Magic and it was this possible dark side that frankly frightened Harry.

He could deal with Dark wizards; hell, he had made it his job to fight them. He just couldn't deal with the thought that Draco might be one of them.

Draco left early Monday morning for a meeting with his mother, though it was clear that he much rather preferred staying home with Harry than visit his mother. He had been quite vague about what the meeting would entail and had only told the dark haired man that he would be home quite late. Plenty of time for Harry to investigate his private room.

Figuring that the chance of finding more wards was high now that he had found one already, Harry used the Ward Detection spell that every Auror learnt in their first year of the course. It had a rather simple incantation, but it would make every ward glimmer orange, so that it was like a beacon. The actual tearing down of the wards could only happen with the right counter-spell, but after a difficult case a few years ago, Harry had done his best to recognise the different kinds of wards and their counter-spells.

He hadn't expected to have to use that knowledge in his own house, though.

"Detego Filiolum," he spoke as soon as he had unlocked the door and entered the room. The early morning light was lazily creeping through the curtains, illuminating the room with a soft glow.

As soon as the incantation left his lips, two places started to shimmer with an orange colour. The first place was in the bookcase where Harry had found the copied ring; the second one turned out to be right behind a painting of a potion's lab which was hung right behind Draco's desk. Harry had never seen the actual occupant of the painting, but he suspected Draco had hung it there for Snape in case the older man wanted to pay a visit.

The Potions Master wasn't present at the moment and Harry approached it wearily, wondering whether there was a secret safe behind the frame. The frame was placed on the floor and he conjured a dark cloth out of his handkerchief to drape it over the painting. With his luck, Snape would choose this exact moment to visit his painting and Harry could do without his questions.

Turning back to the now empty wall, he cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, studying the spot. There was clearly a ward shimmering on the wall, which took on the vague shape of a square. Upon looking closer, he inhaled sharply and let out a soft curse. There wasn't one ward, but two layered on top of each other. The close proximity between the two meant that he would only have ten seconds to utter the counter-spell for the last ward; any longer than that and Draco would be alerted that someone was messing with his ward.

The second ward was just one meant to alert the owner that there was a breach; comparable to the alarm systems in a Muggle house. The first one, on the other hand, was a strong Dispel Attention ward; like the name suggested this ward was meant to redirect the attention off whatever the ward was hiding and onto something else – preferably something located far away from the ward.

If his key had been put behind a Concealment ward, what could possibly be behind the Dispel Attention ward? Harry had a strong feeling he wouldn't like whatever he would encounter, but he needed to know. If he backed off now, it would keep gnawing at him.

There were fluttering movements in his belly; his son reacting to his agitation. "Sorry," he mumbled, caressing his stomach briefly in a soothing manner. He took a step back and raised his wand. "Here goes nothing. Dirigo Attentionem! Nihil Malus Est!"

The first ward melted away with a soft hissing sound, like water being poured into a hot pan. The second ward turned a bright green, the glow so intense Harry had to shield his eyes with his other hand, but it disappeared, fading away like smoke.

With both wards lowered now, Harry noticed that they had been hiding some sort of panel, of which the edges were slightly raised, casting a faint shadow on the wall. Brows furrowed, he cast several spells to detect whether there were any curses or spells meant to trap him on the panel.

There were none. It seemed that Draco had been confident enough that nobody would ever manage to lower his wards.

Or realise that he was hiding something, Harry amended silently. After all, if it hadn't been for that storm, Harry probably would never have expected that Draco was hiding something.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly to steady himself, and then murmured, "Alohomora!"

Nothing happened and Harry allowed himself a wry smile. That would have been a bit too easy.

On a whim he said, "Revelo Secretum!" A light purple beam shot out from his wand, zigzagged through the air and hit the panel right in the middle. The panel shook for a few seconds, as if it was fighting against the spell, but then swung open with a soft 'creak', revealing a small hole in the wall.

A small pile of parchment greeted Harry when he stepped closer and he raised an eyebrow. "What the hell?" he muttered and slipped his wand back into his pocket, retrieving the parchment out of the small hole in the wall.

His eyes widened and dread began to fill his stomach as he took in the information on the papers. There was a list of Ward Constructors with one name underlined once. _Steven Looping._

His mind flashed back to Hales' file. _Wards were constructed by Ward Constructor Master Steven Looping, based in Warwickshire._ _They were set up four years ago and since then had not been changed._

The list of Ward Constructors was followed by a list of days and hours listed next to them and it took Harry a moment before he realised with a start that he was looking at Hales' schedule in Saint Mungos, which detailed when he clocked in for an entire week before he died. The third parchment contained a list of potion ingredients, but Harry couldn't figure out what kind of potion they were meant to create. He suddenly wished he had paid better attention in Potions.

The fourth and last parchment had a whole list of names scrawled down on it and Harry recognised a couple of them as ones that had shown up in Frank's case file as the ones having lent him money.

His legs suddenly felt like they were made out of rubber and he sank down in the chair, feeling like he could vomit any second now. The papers stared at him, seemingly taunting him.

They seemed like such a random collection of information, seemingly useless, but they all connected back to cases Harry thought he had finished weeks ago.

All of a sudden the pieces of a puzzle Harry hadn't realised wasn't finished yet fell into place.

Hales' death hadn't been a suicide, he realised with growing horror. It had looked remarkably well like a suicide, but it hadn't been one. The proof of that was clenched in his hands right now. The list of Ward Constructors – Draco must have figured out which one of them had raised the wards around Hales' place and had contacted him so that he could slip inside the wards without setting off an alarm. Hales' file had a note that there hadn't been a forced entry – there wouldn't be one if one knew a way to get through the wards without setting them off.

The supposed alcohol abuse – Harry wouldn't be surprised if the list of ingredients combined together would form a potion that would mimic those effects well.

Why had Draco killed Hales, though? There was no reason for him to –

His breath hitched and he closed his eyes. "Fuck."

Hales had advised him to get an abortion; Draco clearly hadn't been happy with that when Harry had told him about it. Had he been angry enough to actually kill the Healer for his remark? Going by the documents: apparently so.

As for Frank … Frank's case would explain why Draco had copied the key; it would explain why he had a book titled _Hidden Pathways of Legilimency_ with a chapter called _Suggestions and Their Power_. Draco would have needed the key to slip into the holding cells area undetected. Half an hour would have been long enough if the blond had been quick. Had he used Legilimency to make Frank believe he had killed Halcon? But why had Draco killed Halcon? Framing one of Harry's colleagues so that Harry would be left alone made sense in a sick sort of way, but the dark haired man couldn't come up with one motive as to why Halcon had needed to die. Draco and Halcon had never had any dealings with each other and Halcon had been on his way to Azkaban – so why had he been killed?

But Draco had to have been the one who killed Halcon – why else would he have needed the key and the book about Legilimency and the names of the people who had lent Frank money?

But the most important question of them all: why had Draco felt the need to actually kill these people? Harry was still in the dark about the reason why Halcon had to die, but it was clear that Hales had died because of his comment. The motive was clear, but Harry couldn't understand why the blond had done it. It wasn't as if they had to deal with Hales after that disastrous appointment again, so why had the man paid for that one comment?

How could Harry not have realised that he was living with a murderer?

Ice seemed to replace the blood in his veins and his breathing grew quick and shallow; his heartbeat loud in his ears. Had it only been these two victims? Or had there been more?

Why, why had Draco done this?

This wasn't something Harry could just forget about – or forgive. He could forgive the occasional use of Dark magic – depending on what kind of it was used – but he couldn't forgive murder. How could he continue to live with Draco, look into those grey eyes without wondering whether the man would kill again?

And yet, even with this discovery, he felt himself longing for the blond, found himself wanting to feel those arms around him, keeping him safe. Wanted nothing more than to surround himself with Draco's reassuring presence, soaking in his love and adoration and passion.

It made him sick.

Abruptly he rose up from the chair; clenching the papers in one hand.

This went way beyond what he could handle. He wanted nothing more than to believe that Draco was innocent, that he hadn't killed at least two people, but the proof was practically sticking its tongue out at him. There was too much damning evidence.

He couldn't do this alone. He needed help.

As he turned around to gather all the evidence in a bag, his heart shattered into pieces; tears running a salty track across his cheeks as his baby fussed inside of him.

It was over. Everything – all of this, the perfect life he had envisioned with Draco – over.

No going back; no forgetting or forgiving.

* * *

His head shot up when the door of his office creaked open and Ron looked at him apologetically – right before Fleur stepped into view.

"Ron?" Harry asked warily and sat up straighter; both of his hands resting on top of his belly.

After collecting the evidence, he had gone straight to Kingsley and told him what he had discovered and suspected. If his voice had broken off at some points, a bit choked, the older man hadn't remarked on it; he had only listened with eyes widening in growing horror. He had told Harry to wait in his office while he gathered a team to bring Draco to the Ministry to interrogate him; for obvious reasons Harry couldn't be in that team. Not that Harry had protested against that decision; the thought of having to face Draco while knowing he …

He couldn't do it. It might make a coward of him, but he just couldn't face Draco now. Not now when he felt raw, hollow and empty.

"Sorry, mate," Ron grimaced and rubbed the back of his head as he closed the door behind him. "I Floo called Hermione to let her know what was going on and Fleur was there for a visit. She insisted on coming here."

"'Ello, 'Arry," Fleur greeted him and halted next to his desk. Her light coloured eyes flitted towards his stomach before she appraised him calmly. "I 'ave heard what happened. 'Ow are you feeling?"

He couldn't stop a bitter chuckle from escaping. "Not exactly great at the moment," he answered flatly.

She hesitated; her long silver blonde hair swishing back and forth gently as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other one. "Are you … do you plan on staying in the same house?"

He blinked, taking off guard by the non sequitur comment. "I … haven't decided yet," he replied slowly and grimaced. "I'm not … really keen on staying there to be honest," he confessed and clenched his jaw tightly. Even though Draco had clearly contained his plans to one room – and Harry should have realised something was up when Draco had been so insistent that he couldn't be in that room without the blond present – the idea of staying in that house made Harry's skin crawl with revulsion. He didn't think he could ever be completely at ease in that house again.

She bit her lower lip and the gesture was so uncharacteristic for her that Harry frowned. "What?"

"I was thinking," she began slowly, tapping her long nails on his desk, "that you'd be safer living somewhere else now that you sent the Aurors to Draco."

"What? Why? Do you think he's going to hurt me?" he questioned and with a start he realised that he hadn't considered yet how Draco would react. Most likely betrayed; would he be angry enough to try to attack Harry? His throat felt suddenly dry and swallowing hurt. It wasn't like Draco would be happy about it.

Fleur cocked her head to the right and the odd gleam in her eyes made the dark haired wizard tense up. "Not 'urt, no. I don't think so." She paused and continued, "But Draco is a different Veela than I am. 'E might not 'urt you, but 'e won't be 'appy."

"He can stay with us then," Ron interjected, taking a step forwards; his eyes flashing with determination. "Hermione won't mind at all."

She shook her head. "'E will go to your place first. No, 'Arry needs to be in a place where Draco can't get to 'im."

"You're talking as if he will be able to evade the Aurors and come find me," Harry said, ill at ease. He knew that he should start thinking of Draco as a criminal and no longer as someone he loved, but that wasn't easy. Not even with knowing about Draco what he did.

"Aurors are not a match for a determined Veela," she replied curtly. "It is not safe for you to stay 'ere."

"What are you saying?" Ron asked warily; his forehead creased with a heavy frown.

"I know a place in France," Fleur answered calmly. "It is protected well. You can stay there until we're sure Draco can't get to you anymore."

"Wait, I need to leave the country?" Harry asked in disbelief. That wasn't what he had expected at all. He could understand why it would be better if he moved into another place, but a whole other country? Surely that wasn't necessary!

"Veela are very determined," Fleur repeated; the corners of her mouth pulling down in a frown.

"Yes, all right, but it's not like I can't defend myself," Harry pointed out annoyed.

She leant forwards; determination glinting in her eyes. "'Arry, I don't think you understand just how determined a Veela can be. The place I know can hold up against Veela – it has been used in the past to protect the people from enraged Veela."

"Look, I realise that these murders mean that Draco is dangerous, but I don't think he would actually attack me," Harry insisted and he frowned. Hadn't she just admitted that Draco wasn't likely to hurt him? "Not severely at least. I don't know how I know this, okay, but – I just know. He wouldn't do that."

He knew he sounded beyond ridiculous. Even though Draco hadn't confessed yet, there was more than enough evidence that he had killed at least two people. Considering that, it wouldn't be farfetched to believe that Draco would attack him as well in revenge because he had essentially betrayed the blond. But something in him told him that Draco wouldn't do that. He wouldn't attack his own _mate_.

The conflicted mess that were his emotions was causing a serious headache and he wanted nothing more than to sleep and forget that this awful day had ever happened.

"' _Arry_ , it is important that you put space between you," Fleur said agitatedly and her nails tapped erratically against the desk. "It is _better_ for you, trust me. If you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for your baby."

Green eyes closed and he swallowed heavily.

There wasn't really a choice after that particular argument.

* * *

Everything was arranged that same day. Harry had been put on indefinite leave; officially his file read that he had gone undercover in another country for a secret mission and would be off the radar for a long time.

Ron had gone with him to collect his belongings; the both of them hyper aware of their surroundings. Every second he had spent in his house – the house that would be no longer his, that he would never see again – he had expected to see Draco come flying into the house, demanding to know why the hell Harry was accusing him of murder. They were in and out of the house in less than an hour and there hadn't been any sign of the Veela. Harry had firmly ignored the way his heart had ached at the blond's absence.

Fleur had arranged for a special Portkey that would both get him to the new place without any stops in between and was safe for him to use in his condition. The place in question was a quant villa, in the deep south of France. It was surrounded by heavy and complicated wards and as an extra precaution it had been put under the Fidelius Charm with Fleur as the Secret Keeper. Ron and Hermione had offered to be the Secret Keeper, until Fleur had explained that it would make more sense for her to be one, as Ron and Hermione were too close to Harry – nobody would expect Fleur to be in possession of the secret. It was a fool proof plan.

Harry had free access in the house and the surrounding garden, but Ron had advised him to keep inside the wards as much as possible until they were sure Draco couldn't get to him anymore.

It was ironic how Harry was once again locked up in his own residence – only instead of the Dursleys, it was the threat of Draco that forced him to remain inside.

Living without Draco, trying to deal with the fact that the man he loved turned out to be a murderer – it was hell, pure hell. Rationally Harry knew he had made the right choice, but emotionally he _ached_.

He wanted Draco with him, wanted to put his arms around the man, feel the man's body against him. He needed his presence like he needed air and that scared the hell out of him. He had never realised how dependent he had become on having Draco's presence near him and it was terrifying to realise that he would most likely never see him again.

There would be no more teasing smirks, deep chuckles. No longer would he feel lips curling up in a smile underneath his own; no longer would his fingers trail through silk soft, blond hair. No longer would his magic sing with delight at feeling it link with that of the Veela. He wouldn't be able to bask in the other man's presence anymore, knowing that he was loved and cared for.

Draco wouldn't feel their son kicking anymore; wouldn't be there for the birth or see his son. He wouldn't be there to see him take his first steps, say his first words, hear his first laugh … They couldn't be a family anymore.

It wasn't possible anymore and that _hurt_.

Fleur acted as his messenger for now. She had honestly told him that the Aurors had brought in Draco for interrogation and they had forced him to take Veritaserum – admitting that he had indeed killed both Halcon and Hales. Hales because of his comment about their baby and Halcon because he had attacked Harry – Frank had merely been a convenient escape goat. They had put him in a holding cell after his interrogation was finished – only to discover him gone the next day. Somehow Draco had managed to escape and so far he had managed to evade the Aurors hunting him down.

They had no idea where he was hiding now. So Harry was forced to remain behind the wards; his friends fearing that Draco would come find him.

It scared Harry how much he longed for that to happen.

* * *

He was plagued by nightmares. He had thought he had experienced the worst nightmares when he still had been linked to Voldemort's mind, but the ones he had now terrified him even more. They shouldn't, really; it wasn't like he dreamt about being killed or chased or had to watch how everyone he loved was killed off one by one. They were actually rather simple – and maybe that was why they terrified him so much.

It was just him in a bleak, empty room, devoid of doors and windows. Wherever he looked, he just saw white. White that seemed to stretch out endlessly, even though when he reached out with his hands, his fingers touched cold walls. The room on its own wasn't so scary; weird, but not scary.

No, it was the feeling of utter hopelessness, of feeling completely abandoned, adrift, cast aside that had him waking up with a pounding heart, sweat dripping down his face and harsh breathing that was way too loud.

He didn't know why that scared him so much. Why that made him fear falling asleep.

After several weeks he confessed to Fleur what he was dreaming about. It was a couple of days after his birthday – which he had spent alone, feeling his baby flutter and kick inside of him – and she had brought him presents from the Weasley family, Andromeda, Teddy – who had yet again asked when he could see his godfather again – and Hermione. It was deemed too risky to have Hermione and Ron visiting him in case Draco followed them and so it was only Fleur who occasionally went to see him.

She had informed him solemnly that the nightmares were a result of him being separated from Draco. The bond between them was trying to bring them together again, giving Harry nightmares so that he would seek out Draco to get rid of the feeling of utter terror.

It made the dark haired man realise how little he actually knew about Veela. She had given him a couple of books that had detailed information about Veela, their habits, their mating rituals and the various branches that existed.

Reading those, absorbing the information like a sponge, seemed to lessen the feeling of loneliness in his nightmares. Made him feel closer to Draco, even if that was only through words.

He would take whatever he could get.

* * *

Time went on, however, and with each week that passed his stomach grew and grew. He spent his days in the nursery, painting and repainting the walls and rearranging the furniture, trying to distract himself from the loneliness that was threatening to overwhelm him with every day he spent without Draco.

He felt pathetic. He had always prided himself on being independent, on being strong and able to take care of himself, but now not a day went by without him wishing he had never discovered the Auror's key in Draco's room. If he hadn't been curious, if he had remained oblivious, he would still be with Draco. He would have him with him, feeling their baby kick, have him help with the nursery, counting down the days until they could hold their son in their arms.

They would be a _family_.

Instead he was alone in a remote villa in the south of France, with his only occasional visitor being Fleur.

How had it come to this?

* * *

On the fifteenth of October, on a dreary, rainy day, his water broke. A month before, Fleur had brought him the potions he needed to ingest in order to be prepared for the birth. The taste had been foul and he had spent three days retching into the toilet while cramps assaulted him.

The cramps back then were nothing compared to the burning, fierce pain he was subjected to now as the contractions started to build up and slam into him like waves against a cliff.

He had been given an enchanted button and when he pressed down on it, it alerted Fleur that he had gone into labour. Half an hour and some pacing in the living room later, she arrived with Healer Daler who had to swear a vow that she wouldn't reveal Harry's location.

As quickly as relief had filled him at seeing help arrive – even though it wasn't the one he actually wanted – as quickly it left him again when they had moved to his bedroom and Daler had reached out to check his progress.

Before he realised what he was doing, his magic was lashing out, slamming Daler against the wall and restricting her. Every movement she made had panic growing inside of him and it was only Fleur's soft touch on his shoulder that made him focus on her.

"I know what's wrong," she murmured and sighed; her eyes hooded. "I had 'oped that the bond would have thinned out by now, but that is not the case."

"What – what are you talking about?" he asked and groaned when a new contraction swept over him.

"The bond between you and Draco is still too strong," she said and she looked pained. "Normally a Veela's mate only allows their mate to help them with the birth, because they feel too vulnerable. Your magic is reacting because of the bond; it doesn't want the Healer's help."

"Fuck," he muttered and closed his eyes resigned. He remembered reading about it. Veela were very protective of their family and didn't want anyone else to help their mate during labour. If they had still been together, Draco would have been the one to help him with the birth.

But they weren't together now and he hadn't expected his magic actually reacting so _violently_. How deeply ingrained was this bond that it could even make his magic act up even if Harry himself welcomed the help?

And if his magic wouldn't allow Daler's help, what was he going to do then?

Against his will, a whimper escaped him and his fingers clenched tightly around the folds in his sheets. Would he ever be free of the bond?

"If it is okay with you, I will help you," Fleur suggested, rubbing his back soothingly when he leant forwards, gasping, as he dealt with the sharp pain of another contraction. "I'm part Veela, so I might be able to help. Is that okay?"

He pursed his lips and nodded once. It wasn't like he had much choice, right? Draco wasn't here, wouldn't be here, and Fleur was. He couldn't lose his baby; he just couldn't. It didn't matter that his son's other father had killed people and was a Dark Wizard; his son was innocent, the most innocent of them all in the cluster fuck that had become Harry's life, and he couldn't stand the thought of losing him.

Daler was, while still a bit reluctant, willing to leave the room and wait downstairs as soon as Harry's magic had calmed down – which only happened once Fleur had let out some of her Veela side.

Even with Fleur's support and her soothing presence, it took fifteen gruelling hours before his son finally entered the world. His loud, piercing cry of dismay was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, Harry decided, still reeling from the excruciating pain; feeling light headed, sore and empty.

_It was over_. His son was finally here.

"What is his name?" Fleur asked softly as she carefully placed the now cleaned up baby in Harry's arms.

Emerald green eyes studied the tiny being pressed against his chest. A small tuft of dark hair decorated the boy's scalp; his face was still scrunched up and red, but he wasn't crying anymore. Dark pinkish plump lips smacked together a few times and then light blue, grey coloured eyes blinked open, staring right into green ones.

His breath was taken away and he licked his lips, blinking away the few stray tears that were threatening to spill over. He hadn't considered any names yet – which was quite stupid in hindsight – but all at once he knew it.

The perfect name for a perfect little boy.

His mouth curled up in a weak smile and he stroked his son's plump cheek with a shaking finger, marvelling at the softness of the skin. "Scorpius," he whispered; eyes still locked on his beautiful son.

Fleur paused, but inclined her head. "Scorpius it is," she murmured.

"Welcome into the world, Scorpius," he whispered and pressed a kiss on Scorpius' forehead.

His tears were ignored by the both of them – the chasm that seemed to widen in Harry's chest was a lot harder to ignore, though.

But he had to go on. There was no turning back. He had a son to take care of now; it was time to leave the dreams behind and focus on reality. He owed that to his son.

* * *

The sound of light rain pitter-pattering on the ground was cut off when he closed the door behind him. The weather in April in the south of France was rainier than he had expected, but his garden was growing well. He had just taken some carrots and onion he had planted so that he could make dinner for himself tonight.

It was now almost a year since he had started living in the villa and the urge to leave the place and return to England was growing more and more with each week that passed. It wasn't that he was absolutely miserable in this place, but he longed to be back home, to be able to see his friends whenever he wanted. He wanted to go out without having to worry about wards and he wanted to take up his job again. It wasn't that he was in absolute need of money – his parents' and Sirius' inheritance made sure that he had enough to take care of himself and Scorpius – but he couldn't do nothing for the rest of his life.

The Aurors still hadn't found Draco; it had been months since they last had a lead and they weren't any closer to capturing him.

Harry knew he should be worried about that, but all he felt was some sort of restlessness and the desire to return home. Whether that had to do with the bond or just his own homesickness was something he didn't like to examine closer.

Because the awful thing was that he still _loved_ Draco. He wanted to hate him, was afraid of what the blond man could do, but at the same time he still longed to be back with him. It was incredibly fucked up and disgusting and he was starting to fear that this confusion would never change.

Taking care of his son did help ease the feeling of loneliness he had been plagued with through the rest of his pregnancy. Fleur had theorised that it was because Scorpius was partly Draco's and the bond recognised the link between father and son.

It didn't matter to Harry. He loved his son more than he thought was possible and in a sick, twisted way he was grateful for Draco to have given him Scorpius.

Because without Scorpius, Harry wasn't so sure whether he would have been able to go on with his life without Draco. Another terrifying thought he didn't like to think about.

Lost in his thoughts it took the dark haired wizard a moment before the crying broke through his musings and he shook his head; a tender smile appearing on his face as he put the vegetables on the kitchen table and walked up the staircase.

"I'm coming, Scorpius," he called out. The six month old boy probably needed his diaper changed. That or his son wanted attention and he was all too willing to give him that.

The crying stopped when he reached the door of Scorpius' nursery and he chuckled, saying, "What? Figured you got what you wanted so you don't need to cry anymore?", as he swung the door gently open. He stepped inside, looking down to avoid tripping over the raised threshold, and laughed softly. "I'm here now, so what do you - "

He froze.

Scorpius was babbling something incomprehensibly, laughing brightly and waving his chubby arms in the air – as he was being held by Draco.

Silver eyes flashed dangerously when they landed on Harry. "Hello, _darling_ ," the Veela purred; the corners of his mouth curled up in a smirk. "I've missed you. Did you miss me too?"

It was as if Draco had hit him with a Petrificus Totalus: he couldn't move. He willed his legs, his arms, his hands to move, but nothing happened. It was as if his body was wrapped up in unforgiving ice; the rushing of his blood too loud in his ears as panic threatened to overwhelm him.

"I know you missed me," Draco continued confidently, seemingly not bothered by Harry's lack of response. "But now we don't have to miss each other anymore, do we? We can finally be a family. Our son is so beautiful, Harry." He caressed Scorpius' cheek, who was blinking up at him innocently. "Just like I imagined. I could feel it, you know? The day you went into labour. I could feel your pain, your panic, your worry. Your happiness when our little boy finally came into the world. It made me wish I could have been there with you. I could have helped you. It would have been easier for you if I had been there with you." This time his features darkened and his stare was piercing. "I'm sure you can understand that I was quite upset that I couldn't be there to witness the birth of my own son. Really, Harry, when has running away ever been the solution?"

He shook his head disapprovingly and cooed softly when Scorpius fussed slightly. When he looked back up, his face had brightened again and he looked relaxed. "But that's all in the past now. I understand why you were unsettled with your discoveries; I should have realised that. But no matter. I could have done without the Aurors breathing down my neck, but the most important thing is that we're back together again."

"H-how – how did you get in?" Fear was slowly strangling him and his hand automatically shot to his pocket – only to realise that he had left his wand in the kitchen.

_Fuck_. _Fuck, fuck_ , _**fuck!**_

The shark like grin spreading out over Draco's face had his stomach cramping with pure and utter _fear_.

"How does one find a place that has been put under the Fidelius Charm?" Draco hummed, cocking his head. His eyes glittered with sadistic pleasure. "Very smart, you know. Choosing the Delacour girl as the Secret Keeper. Clever, but not enough for me."

"Wha- what did you do to her?" Harry demanded, his heart lodged into his throat. How long had it been since he last had seen Fleur? _Two weeks._

But he hadn't thought anything of it because two weeks were nothing. Her visits had never been regular after all.

"I just persuaded her to give up the secret," Draco smiled and his smile was painful to look at, because it was the same mischievous one he had always given Harry whenever he had planned a fun date for the two of them.

"Ron and Hermione – they will know," Harry stated; his throat dry. He didn't dare to imagine what Draco had done to Fleur. "They will be here soon."

Draco threw his head back and laughed; the joyful sound grating Harry's ears. "Really, Harry, do you have so little faith in me? They won't come here; the secret is safe."

His heart thudded painfully as the implication slowly sank in. "You – you switched Secret Keepers?" The words came out strangled and he started panting; panic seizing control over him. If there was another Secret Keeper, nobody would ever be able to find them; not unless the Secret Keeper divulged the secret.

"Well, I can't have people disturbing us, now can I?" Draco asked rhetorically; a hint of amusement colouring his voice. "It's okay; you don't have to be alone anymore. This villa is a bit smaller than I would have preferred, but as long as I have you and our son, I can deal with living anywhere. It's going to be all right now. I will take care of - "

"Don't, Draco, just – don't," Harry said, shaking his head; cold sweat breaking out. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. He had been safe for nearly a year; everything was supposed to get _better_.

Silver eyes flashing up was the only warning he got before Draco was suddenly standing in front of him, looming over him; his dark wings hovering ominously behind him. Harry was backed up against the wall and Scorpius was thrusted into his arms, forcing him to hold him against his chest or risk dropping the baby.

He wanted to recoil from the cool hand cupping his cheek, but sharp nails resting against his skin made him freeze up instead as he realised just how close those sharp talons were against his eyes.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Draco murmured and the odd crooning sound rose up again. "I don't think you really understand what is going on here. You're my _mate_ , Harry. I Claimed you," he hissed and his fingers clamped down on a particular spot in Harry's neck.

A gasp was torn out of Harry as intense pleasure suddenly coursed through him, practically drowning the fear and disgust. A fog descended over Harry's mind and his limbs felt oddly loose; his legs weak like jelly. His knees buckled as pleasure continued to get poured into his system and only Draco pressing his body tightly against Harry's managed to keep him upright.

Between them Scorpius babbled happily; his big grey eyes blinking up at Harry innocently.

"It doesn't matter how far you go, I will always find you," Draco stated; his dark wings ruffling slightly. "We're bonded forever; nothing will take you from me. This Mark is proof you're _mine_ ," he growled and pressed down harder in Harry's neck.

_Dark Veela._

There hadn't been much information about Dark Veela in the books Fleur had given him. The few paragraphs dedicated to them had caused Harry to have nightmares for weeks. Dark Veela never let their mate, their _Thrall_ , go. Other Veela would be able to deal with rejection, but Dark Veela wouldn't. They didn't _allow rejection_. Once they had marked their mate, bitten them in their neck and drank some of their blood, they would be able to find their mate wherever they went, no matter the distance. The Mark ensured that; it acted as some sort of permanent Tracking Charm.

They were also the only Veela with black wings. How had Harry not realised this before?

He had never stood a chance. Not with being a Dark Veela's Thrall. It had not been a matter of if, but _when_ Draco would find him.

They all had deluded themselves into believing he was safe from Draco behind the wards. In reality, Draco had merely been biding his time, figuring out where exactly his Thrall had been hidden.

_He never had any chance._

"I missed you very much this past year, darling," Draco breathed in his ear, shifting until their hips brushed against each other. Silver grey eyes glanced down when Scorpius babbled something and the blond smiled. "But we're going to make up for the lost time. We're a family now and nobody will ever come between us anymore, I promise you that."

"No, please," Harry pleaded, but he felt weak; all his strength leaving him the longer he stayed pressed up against Draco. It was as if the blond was taking away his energy, subduing him and it was with horror that he realised that was exactly what the Veela was doing. The bond between them would make sure that Harry would never think of going against Draco ever again. The bond hadn't weakened because of the distance at all; it had merely been lying dormant, ready to surge upwards once more once the Veela had found his mate.

_He would never be free again._

A dark smirk graced Draco's lips as he tenderly brushed his fingers over Harry's cheek. He brushed a soft kiss against slack lips and cupped their son's head carefully. His smile was both beautiful and menacing when he looked up at Harry again.

"You can try to run, Harry, but you can't hide from me."

_Not now._ _**Not ever** _ _._

Outside the rain continued to fall down gently. Somewhere in the distance a raven croaked triumphantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN2: Nearly the end of December and I finally finished the Halloween themed fic *drops down* Let it be known that my time management sucks.
> 
> But here you have it: the complete ending of the fic. I hope it isn't as bad as I fear it is *winces* Finding the right words was a lot harder than I anticipated and I can only hope that I didn't mess up too much *grimaces*
> 
> Again, my apologies for the delay. For the last time please leave a review behind with your thoughts; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
> 
> I hope to see you all in my future stories! There will be two more Drarry oneshots posted this year, one of which is a Christmas themed one.
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa

**Author's Note:**

> AN2: The real 'horror' I suppose you can call that will start in the next chapter. Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
> 
> I hope to see you all in the next part! Happy Halloween!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa


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